


to these memories

by katierosefun



Series: to these memories [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ahsoka Tano Gets a Hug, Ahsoka Tano Needs a Hug, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anakin Skywalker Gets a Hug, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Angst with a Happy Ending, Everyone Gets A Hug, Everyone Lives!!!, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Light Angst, Obi-Wan Kenobi Gets a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Padmé Amidala Lives, basically ahsoka gets to coruscant early!!!, everyone needs a hug in this series smh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:20:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 102,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24001981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katierosefun/pseuds/katierosefun
Summary: After Darth Sidious is defeated, everything changes. Some for the better, others not so much. Mostly better though. (Or: Anakin becomes a dad. Rex rehabilitates clone troopers who no longer want to be a part of the army. Ahsoka gets a call from an old friend. And maybe Obi-Wan finds out it’s not just his enemies who don’t stay dead. Basically, everyone gets the happy ending they deserve.)**To be updated weekly.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, CT-7567 | Rex & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Series: to these memories [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2042953
Comments: 513
Kudos: 1267





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here we are. I wrote this right after S7e10, so right before Shattered. Let's just divert the canon a little, shall we?

“You seem troubled.”

Ahsoka looked up at Rex. The captain—no, commander now—wore a passive expression, but she could sense the weariness coming off from him as well. They were both exhausted, the adrenaline of the operation just now coming down. Ahsoka knew that Rex had slipped into his new role as the commander with all the ease that she knew he would, but that wasn’t to dismiss the losses today. And yet there he was, subtly checking Ahsoka in the way that felt nostalgic and familiar. He had been doing that for the whole night—quiet looks and nods after he had handed Ahsoka back her light sabers. Of course he had found them.

“Only a little,” Ahsoka replied. She dropped her arms at her sides. She had had them folded over her chest just a moment before, her hands squeezing at her biceps. She could feel the slight sting of where her nails had dug into her skin.

After a beat, Rex cleared his throat. “Care to explain why?”

Ahsoka turned her gaze back around out to the bridge. “You heard Maul,” she said, watching the blue waves of light wash over the viewport. “He was begging us to let him die.” She frowned. “I don’t like it.”

“He’s a criminal,” Rex replied. “He’s afraid of the consequences waiting for him.”

“Maybe,” Ahsoka said, keeping her eyes out the viewport. But there had been something else. _Anakin_. Maul had mentioned Anakin’s name. _The one not to bring balance to the Force, but to destroy it_. Another chill ran up Ahsoka’s spine.

“You don’t think that’s it,” Rex said.

“No,” Ahsoka replied. She turned to Rex. “Maul said something else before—something about Anakin. General Skywalker.”

“What about the general?” Rex asked, his brows furrowing.

Ahsoka’s stomach clenched. “Nothing good,” she replied. “I don’t like it.” She looked over to the holo-table farther down the bridge. “I’ll need to contact the Council about our success with Maul.”

“And what of Maul’s interest in the general?” Rex asked.

Ahsoka pressed her lips together. She didn’t like the idea of telling the Council anything that Maul had told her about Anakin. Not right now, not after what Obi-Wan had told her about the operation they had put on Anakin. Ahsoka’s skin crawled just _thinking_ about how Anakin might have reacted to being told to spy on the Chancellor. She hadn’t liked the Chancellor so much herself, and she had the vague idea that the Chancellor didn’t think much of her either from their brief encounters before the trial, but still, Anakin respected the man. And the Council asking him to do something like that—

“We’ll be back on Coruscant soon,” Ahsoka decided to say. “That can be settled in person. For now, though,” she said, strolling towards the holo-table, “we’ll need to make a quick call.”

And the call _was_ quick: if the Council was surprised at all to see Ahsoka, they didn’t show it. Ahsoka wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She exchanged tight nods, accepted a “looking forward to your arrival, we are” from Master Yoda, who himself was all the way back at Kashyyyk.

“Is Master Skywalker there?” Ahsoka asked at last. “He might want to know the state of the 501st.”

There was an awkward silence at that. Ahsoka didn’t miss the looks flicked amongst the Council members. Finally, Master Windu said, “Skywalker is currently with the Chancellor.”

Ahsoka tasted something sour in her mouth. _The assignment_ , she thought, but she couldn’t bring herself to say that out loud. “I see.” She squared her shoulders. “Well, then, masters,” she said, “we will be at Coruscant shortly.” She heard the beginnings of a response—“May the Force be with—”—but before the farewell could be finished, Ahsoka shut off the holo-table.

“Rex,” Ahsoka said over her shoulder.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’m going to pay our guest a little visit,” Ahsoka said, turning around. “Let me know the second we get out of hyperspace.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

With that, Ahsoka walked out of the bridge. She nodded to the troopers, trying to suppress the grimace that threatened to come to her face whenever one of them would try to salute. She still couldn’t quite get used to that part. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to. She wouldn’t be.

Ahsoka stopped in front of Maul’s ray-shielded cell. The small squadron of troopers protecting the cell snapped to attention, but Ahsoka was already waving her hand. “At ease,” she said, her eyes already shifting to the inside of the cell.

And there was Maul, his spiny head lifting to meet Ahsoka’s gaze. His yellow eyes seemed to move too quickly from side to side, his lips just a little too tightly pressed together. _Scared._ The great Darth Maul was scared, and Ahsoka again felt a strange clench at the pit of her stomach.

Still, Maul was the one who spoke first. “Come to gloat, Lady Tano?” he asked, his voice little more than a quiet rasp.

“Not quite,” Ahsoka replied. She crossed her arms and, just barely tilting her head at the troopers, she said, “Leave us.”

There was some shuffling, and then Ahsoka added, “I’ll be fine. I’m not planning to go in there.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the troopers chorused, and then they were marching away, and Ahsoka was left alone with Maul. She turned back around to the cell. Maul’s eyes were still flicking from one end of the cell to the other, but besides that, he was still, his hands resting on his knees and his back only loosely slouched against his seat.

“You haven’t come to gloat,” Maul said at last. “And you have sent your men away.” He lifted his eyes up to Ahsoka. “I can only imagine why else you would be here.” His mouth curled into the briefest of smiles—a sardonic, twisted one that cracked the corner of his already dry lips. “Have you finally decided to accept the truth?” His voice lowered. “You know it too, Lady Tano. You feel it from your old master too.”

“Don’t tell me what I feel,” Ahsoka said. She dropped her arms from her chest, chose to cross them behind her back instead. “Why don’t you tell me more of your Darth Sidious instead? This Dark Lord who has been grooming Anakin Skywalker?”

Maul let out a low laugh, one that sent another chill up Ahsoka’s spine. “Surely,” he said, lifting his eyes back up to Ahsoka. “You must have your own suspicions.”

When Ahsoka didn’t say anything, Maul leaned a little forward, enough for Ahsoka to make out the red lingering in Maul’s eyes—red that didn’t have to do with the shield. “There are those who live for centuries. Those who have seen and suffered and learned long enough to know exactly when to strike, where to strike, _who_ to strike. Masters of manipulation, those who appear so convincing that they fool entire solar systems. Galaxies.” Maul’s fingers twined around each other as he looked Ahsoka dead in the eye. “Republics.”

Ahsoka’s blood ran cold, but she kept her voice level as she replied, “Someone within the Senate.”

“Mm,” Maul settled his elbows over his knees. “Come now, Lady Tano. Someone with as much power as Darth Sidious couldn’t just settle for a seat on the Senate, now, would he? No…” He shook his head, drew back. “Someone who has the entire Senate in his pocket.”

Ahsoka’s stomach plunged. “I don’t trust you,” she said.

“You don’t have to,” Maul replied, tilting his eyes back to the edges of the cell. “You already know.”

Before Ahsoka could say anything else, her comlink chirped.

“Rex,” she said, keeping her eyes on Maul. “Good news?”

“We’ve reached Coruscant,” Rex confirmed. “We’re about to make our descent to the Jedi Temple now.”

“Good,” Ahsoka said, and she turned away before she could catch any more of Maul’s sickening smile. “Get the transports as quick as you can. And Rex,” she added after a beat, “get some transports ready for the Senate Building as well.”

There was a pause, and then, “Right away, Commander.”

“Not your commander,” Ahsoka couldn’t help but say as she raced down the hallway. She jerked her head to the troopers waiting for her. _Go back to Maul_.

“Sure thing, Commander,” came Rex’s reply.

\--

The sun was setting when Ahsoka reached the Temple. She only just processed that part— _the sun was setting_ —before watching the Temple guards whisk a newly-stunned Maul into the recesses of the Temple. Ahsoka looked around for any familiar faces: for more members of the Council, but none existed. If anything, the Temple was eerily quiet, save for the quiet rush of the guards’ droids. Too quiet. Everything was too quiet.

“What are your orders?” Rex asked.

“Keep the transports for the Senate Building ready,” Ahsoka replied. She looked over at Rex. “I’m going to find Anakin.” She hesitated. “Stay ready. And stay on guard.” She looked back up at the Temple warily. “There’s something not right about this.” She turned back around to Rex. “Just give me a few minutes.”

“We’ll be ready whenever you are,” Rex replied, and Ahsoka only managed the briefest of smiles before she was running up the steps two at a time. She sped past the great structures at the front of the Temple, and only when she took her first step inside was she hit by a sudden wave of familiarity: the smell of linen and cotton and leather. Something floral, another thing spiced. The distant gurgle of water from the courtyards. The faintest buzz of energy from the lights down the hallway. The sudden rush was enough to falter Ahsoka’s step, but just the faintest bit.

She needed to focus.

 _Anakin_. Where was he?

Ahsoka remembered another corridor, another time—a _younger_ time—when she had been circling for another person. A criminal. A stolen light saber. A lesson in patience. Ahsoka stilled now, reached out into the Force. She could feel several things: anxiety, a hushed kind that filled the minds of younglings and Padawans as they waited for…what, exactly, Ahsoka didn’t know. Calm, the kind that Ahsoka could only credit to the older masters, the ones who were too old to go out to battle but still had enough energy to teach. And then—

Ahsoka let out a short gasp, her eyes snapping open. Sorrow. So much sorrow—pain, confusion. So sharp, focused, _real_ in Ahsoka’s mind. She was running down the corridors now, her breaths coming and going in short pants despite the fact that the room she was looking for wasn’t far off. With each nearing step, her heart pounded a little louder in her head; the pain grew a little sharper until the rug under Ahsoka’s feet were blurring, and then she found the doors to the Council chambers.

Without even a second of consideration, Ahsoka flung herself through the doors. “Anakin,” she gasped, and she found Anakin standing by the windows, his whole form lit by the sunset behind him. Ahsoka was first struck by the red rimming his eyes, the sharp streaks of what could have only been tears down his cheeks. Hair messy and sweat-matted, as though he had just woken from a nightmare. Lips bloodless, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as Ahsoka crossed the Council chambers in one, five, ten steps. 

“Ahsoka?” Anakin only just got to say before Ahsoka wrapped her arms around Anakin, tugging him close to herself. She couldn’t tell who was shaking more—Anakin or herself. But Anakin _was_ shaking, Ahsoka could feel the tremors in his hands as they settled around her shoulders. And Ahsoka was shaking too, because suddenly she was hearing Maul’s whispers in her head again, _groomed to Darth Sidious’ apprentice_ , but no, Anakin was _here_. Right in front of her. He was here, and they were both here, and everything had to be better.

Ahsoka felt Anakin’s head drop down to her shoulder, and that was when she relaxed. “Hey, Snips,” Anakin said, his voice raw. “Where’ve you been?”

Ahsoka let out a laugh that sounded a little more like a gasp or a sob. She hadn’t meant it to sound like that, but Anakin didn’t seem to mind. “I was going to ask you the same thing,” she said, and she was about to withdraw from Anakin, look him in the eye, but he suddenly held fast, his arms wrapping tightly around Ahsoka’s middle. Ahsoka let out the faintest squeak of surprise, but then she felt Anakin’s shaky breath against the crook of her neck, and she knew that _oh_ , they weren’t about to let go just yet.

“What happened?” Ahsoka asked quietly, her eyes shifting out the window. The sky had taken on a brilliant shade of red, the kind of bright red before the sun would fully set below the horizon. “What’s wrong?”

At first, Anakin didn’t respond, and Ahsoka was worried that he wouldn’t say anything at all. But then Ahsoka felt an intake of breath, and Anakin was slowly pulling away from Ahsoka, his face still haggard, eyes still bloodshot and tired. Ahsoka looked up at Anakin, her chest tightening at his expression. He looked lost, pained. _What happened?_

“I’m not a good Jedi, Ahsoka,” Anakin said at last, his voice just barely above a whisper.

 _Darth Sidious’ apprentice_ , Maul whispered.

 _Shut up,_ Ahsoka thought.

“What do you mean?” Ahsoka asked. Anakin’s hands were still shaking.

“The Chancellor,” Anakin started, and then he stopped. “He’s Darth Sidious. The Sith Lord’s everyone been searching for.”

So Maul was right about that. But that didn’t mean he was right about everything else. Ahsoka only looked up at Anakin. “He is?” she asked, trying to keep her voice level. “How do you know?”

“He told me,” Anakin replied. “And he—” His face twisted, and he looked away from Ahsoka sharply. “He promised me things.”

Ahsoka swallowed. “What things?” she asked.

Anakin looked at Ahsoka, his brows furrowing. “Don’t make me tell you,” he said, pained. “You won’t—”

“I won’t what?” Ahsoka asked, her voice just barely brushing on desperation. She reached for Anakin’s sleeve, his arm. “Please. Anakin,” she said, her eyes searching Anakin’s face, “look at me.” Anakin’s eyes trained on hers. Tired blue eyes. Ahsoka remembered a time when they were bright, lighter. Shone with something that weren’t tears. “You can trust me,” Ahsoka said, begged, pleaded. “Please. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

For a moment, Ahsoka was afraid that Anakin would turn away. Bruh her hand away from his arm. But Ahsoka kept her gaze steady on Anakin’s eyes, and then Anakin bowed his head. “He promised he would save her life,” he said, his voice low. “That she wouldn’t die—” He looked back up at Ahsoka, his face pulled taut. “I keep seeing Padmé die. Every night. Always the same way—screaming, crying, and I’m not there to help her—” His voice cracked. “I can’t save her, and I can’t save the child—”

“The child?” Ahsoka repeated, her heart sinking at the look Anakin gave her. “Oh, _Anakin_ …” She let go of Anakin’s arm, her own hand settling back down at her side. She should have known. She _had_ known, of course, about Anakin’s fondness for Senator Amidala. The quiet looks he gave her, the fascination with her safety, the soft voice he seemed to take only with her. But now Anakin was looking at Ahsoka as though she might slip right between his fingers, and Ahsoka wondered exactly how long the nightmares had been plaguing him.

“I’m sorry,” Anakin said at last. “I shouldn’t have—”

“No,” Ahsoka said firmly. She caught Anakin’s eyes, gave him a small smile when they finally met hers. “We’ll save Senator Amidala,” she said. “And we’ll save your child.” Lowering her voice, she added, “But the Chancellor can’t. He won’t, if he is who he says he is.”

Anakin’s face twisted again, and he started to turn away, but Ahsoka’s hand shot out, grabbing for Anakin fast. His face still turned away, he said, “I can’t let them die.”

“You _won’t_ ,” Ahsoka said. “ _We_ won’t. Anakin?” She took a few steps around so that she was directly looking up at Anakin. “We won’t let them die.”

For a moment, neither of them said anything. And then, brows furrowing, Anakin asked, “So what’s the plan?”

Ahsoka smiled. “You tell me,” she said. “I’m just bringing the enthusiasm.”

Anakin’s lips twitched and nodding down at the chirping comm at Ahsoka’s wrist, he said, “I think you’ve graduated past just enthusiasm, Snips.”

\--

Later, when asked to recount the events of defeating Darth Sidious during a press conference, Ahsoka would only be able to recollect the vaguest of memories. She would remember the disgust at seeing Palpatine’s shriveled form from Windu’s attack, and she would remember Rex standing beside her, blasters at the ready. She would remember the shouting and the stomp of boots, and then she would remember Anakin’s hesitation—she would remember Palpatine screaming about saving the senator, and then she would remember how Anakin looked at her then, and she would remember how Anakin would turn back to the Chancellor—Sith Lord, whichever, whatever—and say that he didn’t need a Sith Lord to save anyone.

Ahsoka would remember the sudden flash of light sabers, the blaster bolts, and then Palpatine was lying dead in front of them, nothing more than a corpse of burns.

She would remember that much of that night, but there were other memories that she would hold onto more dearly: memories of how Anakin had sank straight into Ahsoka’s and Rex’s side, everyone stumbling out of the Senate Building to face the night. Ahsoka would more distinctly remember a battered and bruised looking Obi-Wan rushing for the Senate Building, his own tunic scorched and riddled with light saber slashes, his face smoke-streaked but relieved when finding Anakin and Ahsoka. Ahsoka would more distinctly remember how Padmé close behind, dressed in maternity robes and looking just as relieved, thunderstruck as the heroes staggered out to the front of the building.

And most of all, Ahsoka would remember how they all rushed for each other. She wasn’t sure if it was Anakin and herself who moved first, or if it had been Padmé and Obi-Wan, but they were all suddenly running for each other, and then Ahsoka remembered the clash of warm arms and staggered breathing and so much _relief_ —

And she would also remember Padmé suddenly letting out a sharp yelp, and at first there had been some laughter because perhaps they were all squeezing a little too hard, but then she was saying, “No, it’s not— _Anakin_ , we need to—”

And then Ahsoka would _definitely_ remember how Anakin’s face had gone white, and then she would remember how Anakin looked at Obi-Wan, his mouth opening and closing and lost for explanation before Ahsoka would yell for Rex to get medical personnel—and Anakin would still be stammering out some kind of halfhearted “Padmé-and-I-are-married-and-she’s-pregnant-and-I-know-this-is-bad-timing-but-”, and then Ahsoka would remember the exasperated look Obi-Wan gave Anakin, and then: “Anakin, for the love of—go help Padmé!”

And Ahsoka would remember the look Anakin gave Obi-Wan, the wide smile and the sudden crushing embrace Anakin had dragged Obi-Wan into, and Ahsoka would remember how Obi-Wan had looked stunned, and then Ahsoka would remember Padmé saying, exasperated, “I’m glad you two are finally working this out, but—”

“Right, right, right,” Anakin had said, and then he had disentangled himself from Obi-Wan and, cheeks flushed and eyes bright, he had shouted for more medical personnel, and then Padmé had been heaped on a stretcher, and Ahsoka had watched as Anakin and Padmé were whisked away.

Ahsoka remembered the silence, and then finally Windu asking in the background, “Was that…?”

And then Ahsoka remembered Rex laughing lightly beside her, and when Ahsoka looked at him, he said, “Looks like the general’s hands will be full for a while.”

Ahsoka remembered smiling back and turning back to the Coruscant skyline. _Yes_ , she had thought. Their hands were going to be full for a while.


	2. Chapter 2

Anakin had always been a light sleeper, but that light sleep had gone full into no sleep territory, because the twins were wailing again.

Padmé shifted besides Anakin, one of her arms falling across Anakin’s chest. “How long?” she mumbled, her eyes still closed.

“Just a few minutes, I think,” Anakin replied. He reached up to squeeze Padmé’s hand and, shifting the blankets off him, he said, “Go back to sleep. I’ll get them.”

At that, Padmé opened her eyes. “Are you sure?” she mumbled, wiping a hand over her eyes. “I don’t mind—”

“No, no,” Anakin said quickly, draping the blankets back over his wife. “You’ve got a big day tomorrow.” He paused. “Today. I’ve got it under control.”

A lazy smile spread across Padmé’s lips. “Okay, hero,” she said, her voice little more than a sigh. “Call me if you need reinforcements.”

“Will do,” Anakin said, and with that, he walked out of the room. He headed into the nursery next door—if one could even call it a nursery. The room was just as large as the master bedroom, but painted with light shades of blue and green and purple. Little mobiles of stars and fighters and comets dangled from the ceiling, glinting the light of outside speeders into the room. Anakin had chosen most of the mobiles, insisting that he _needed_ to have some with the fighters because he was _going_ to teach his children how to fly as soon as they were able.

He had been the one to choose the paint colors, too. He had made the cribs himself, and he had adjusted the lighting just so that they would darken just the right amount so that the children could sleep. Padmé, in the meantime, had watched on amusedly while Anakin did everything.

He had been so excited about being a _father_ in general, and he didn’t even care about what they were named. But when Padmé named the twins Luke and Leia, Anakin felt as though he had known those names his whole life. He had felt as though he had known those twins his whole life, too. After getting over the initial shock that _oh, Padmé and he were having twins_ , he had looked into those beautiful eyes of his children and thought, _hello, nice to finally meet you_.

He had cried a little when Luke and Leia stared right back up at him. Padmé had been crying a little too, and it had nothing to do with the pain. They had sat together for hours, just cooing and staring down at their children— _their children_ , and then Obi-Wan and Ahsoka and Rex came tumbling into the room, their clothes freshly changed. Rex was even in civilian clothes, which Anakin hadn’t expected, but Ahsoka had whispered to him that she wasn’t sure how else the medical droids would allow Rex to walk into a room with newborns.

And then Ahsoka had looked down at the babies, her eyes softening and brightening at once. “Oh,” she had whispered, her hand reaching out for the children. “They’re beautiful.” She had looked up at Padmé, adding, “And they’re going to have your brains.” Padmé had laughed at that, a bright and beautiful sound that filled the hospital room.

And Anakin had looked up at Obi-Wan, who stood at the foot of the bed with an odd expression on his face. Anakin wasn’t quite sure how to interpret it, but when Padmé offered Luke to Obi-Wan, Anakin didn’t miss the way his features gentled at once. “Hello, little one,” Obi-Wan had said quietly, and then he had looked up at Anakin, and Anakin knew that if there were words, there would be words later. But at that moment, Obi-Wan only smiled down at the children and said, “They look like both of you.” And Anakin’s chest warmed then.

And Ahsoka, who had been holding Leia, had turned to Rex. “Isn’t she cute?” she asked, her voice hushed to avoid waking the baby. And Rex had looked back down at the baby, and he had looked back up at Anakin, and then he said, “I ‘spect she’ll be causing trouble sooner or later.” And that had gotten both Anakin and Padmé to laugh, and Anakin had felt like things were coming together.

And right now, things coming together looked like crying five-month-olds who needed to be rocked back to sleep.

“Alright, alright,” Anakin said now, scooping up Luke in one arm, Leia in the other. Luke was the louder crier, the one who bawled and made his face go all red, while Leia chose to whimper, the sounds coming out of her more like mewling than anything else.

“Hey, hey,” Anakin said, bouncing the babies lightly in his arms. He brought them both to his shoulders and set to pacing around the room. “Daddy’s here.” He reached one end of the room, started to turn back around, but both of his children’s cries only seemed to grow louder. Even Leia’s whimpers were coming more frequently.

“Come on,” Anakin said, reaching the other end of the room. “What’s wrong?” He tried to make his voice quiet, soothing, the way Padmé always made her voice whenever she was talking to the twins. They would always quiet whenever Padmé used her special voice—their tears would stop running, and they’d settle back down as though under a spell.

But Padmé had been putting the twins back to sleep for weeks now, and she was going back to work tomorrow— _this morning_ , Anakin corrected. She needed all the beauty sleep she could get.

“Come on,” Anakin whispered, pacing. “Go to sleep.”

It took another two turns, then another two, and then finally, on the tenth turn around the room, Luke and Leia’s cries quieted, leaving Anakin to hover by the door. He let out a quiet breath and made it back towards the cribs. He started to lower Luke into his crib, and then Leia into another, but just as Leia's head touched the mattress, Luke started whimpering, apparently displeased by the sudden lack of touch.

Anakin only just had a second to recover before Luke’s whimpers trickled back into cries, and then he was scooping both of his children up again, going back around the room. “Come on, Luke,” he said wearily. “I thought you were on my side.” But Luke’s watery blue eyes only blinked back up at Anakin, and he shook his head. “Okay, okay. I guess we can’t all get what we want.” He circled the room another time, and Leia was the one to stop crying first. She kept her head nestled against Anakin’s shoulder, and it was just Luke and Anakin awake, Luke’s little head swiveling around the nursery.

“Go back to sleep, Luke,” Anakin hummed, bouncing his son a little bit more in his arms. “Look at your sister. She’s fast asleep like a good girl.”

Luke didn’t seem too impressed. He let out a soft gurgling sound and only patted a hand against Anakin’s shoulder. Despite himself, Anakin smiled. “Okay,” he said quietly, careful to still not wake Leia. “Glad you’re enjoying the ride.” So he adjusted his grip on Luke and made his fourth lap around the room. By the time he came around his sixth lap, Luke had fallen asleep too. But not trusting himself to put them back into the cribs without waking them again, Anakin sank down into the small couch that Padmé and he had installed after renovating the room. It had originally been intended for Padmé and Anakin’s little nook in the room, but Anakin now learned that it was just as good a bed as any.

Leaning his head back against the cushion, Anakin closed his eyes.

\--

Anakin felt like he had just closed his eyes for a few minutes before he heard Padmé’s quiet laugh. He felt the sinking of the couch seat beside him, and then he opened his eyes to find his wife already dressed, her hair already twisted into its usual elaborate style. “Good morning,” she said, brushing her fingers through Anakin’s curls.

“Morning,” Anakin mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. He looked down at his arms, where Luke and Leia still slept. “They’re still out.”

“That’s good,” Padmé said quietly. “They’re supposed to be doing a lot of sleeping.”

“What about you?” Anakin asked, barely stifling a yawn. “Sleep well?” He blinked owlishly at Padmé. “Ready for today?”

Padmé’s face clouded over briefly. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” she said, tracing a finger along Luke’s cheek. She lifted her eyes back up to Anakin and, looking at his expression, she smiled. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I know how to handle politics.”

“They can’t say anything about you,” Anakin said defensively. “Anyone would be foolish to criticize you.”

Padmé smiled again, the kind of smile that Anakin knew she only gave when she was trying to humor him. Anakin didn’t necessarily like that smile, but she leaned in, pressed warm lips against Anakin’s cheek before he could say anything. “Don’t worry,” Padmé repeated. She pulled away, brushed kisses against Luke and Leia’s cheeks and stood up. “I’ll be back before you know it.” And giving Anakin one last smile, Padmé walked out of the nursery, and a few moments later, Anakin heard the distant hiss of the apartment’s doors open and close.

Anakin let out a breath and tilted his head back, watching as the sun’s early morning rays slowly inched its way through the room. He could have sat there or slept there for a little longer, but looking at the fighter-shaped chronometer on the wall, Anakin knew that wouldn’t do. He carefully settled the children back in their cribs, and when neither of them stirred, Anakin left the nursery to start his own day.

He slipped into the shower first. Scrubbed the sleep out of his body with soap and water and body wash. He walked into the kitchen and noted with some warmth in his chest that Padmé had left him something with a covered lid and a note. Anakin ate his breakfast standing up, one hand wrapped around a fork and the other already reaching for his datapad. A few notifications were already waiting for him: updates from the Council, junk mail about coupons on lothcat treats, a message from Ahsoka asking if they preferred fruit or chocolate-flavored things for desserts.

Even though Anakin knew he could easily respond in a text, he still called Ahsoka via hologram instead.

“Fruit,” Anakin said as soon as Ahsoka’s form popped up in front of him. “Definitely fruit.”

“And you’re calling me to tell me this _now_?” Ahsoka mumbled, rubbing her eyes. Anakin could tell she had just gotten out of bed, mostly because of the state of her clothes—rumpled, slightly shifted off her shoulder. Anakin knew she was wearing her typical working clothes underneath an unfamiliar oversized shirt.

“Figured you should know,” Anakin replied cheerfully.

“Well, _now_ I do,” Ahsoka muttered. Swiping a hand over her face again, she asked, “How’re you awake anyways?”

“Padmé got an early start, so I got an early start,” Anakin replied.

“And how is she?” Ahsoka asked. “Nervous?”

“She’s trying not to be,” Anakin said. He pushed his empty plate away and guiding the hologram of Ahsoka to the living room, he added, “But I’m guessing we’ll be hearing about it tonight.” He paused. “Hopefully good things.”

“Definitely good things,” Ahsoka said with a gentle smile. “She’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, well,” Anakin said, sinking down onto the couch. “What about you? How’re you holding up?”

There was some clattering in the background, and then Ahsoka winced. “Just fine,” she replied, and then she ducked her head briefly away from the hologram, followed by, “Be right there in a minute!” When she turned back to Anakin, her expression was one of both sheepishness and guilt.

“You slept over there again?” Anakin asked.

“Rex and I had a late night,” Ahsoka replied, and Anakin now guessed that the oversized shirt had to be Rex’s. “We _told_ ourselves we would stop after ten cases, but then ten became fifteen, and then fifteen became twenty.”

Anakin felt the uncomfortable needling of guilt in his stomach. He knew that Ahsoka and Rex had been grinding themselves into the task of helping the newly-released clone troopers into getting work and finding new homes. Ahsoka had mentioned there were interns—really just fresh-faced teenagers who couldn’t have been that much younger than Ahsoka herself—but Anakin still had the feeling that Ahsoka and Rex were doing too much of the heavy lifting.

“You know I can help out,” Anakin suggested, but Ahsoka was already shaking her head.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “We’ve got it handled. And,” she added, “I don’t think Rex and I have baby-proofed our headquarters quite thoroughly yet.” There was some more clattering in the background, followed by an insistent pounding, and then Ahsoka sighed. “Sorry, looks like—”

“It’s fine,” Anakin said quickly. “Tell Rex hello. I’ll see you guys both tonight, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Ahsoka replied, and Anakin only just caught the flicker of a smile before Ahsoka’s form vanished, leaving Anakin alone in the living room.

\--

“So?” Anakin asked as Padmé crashed onto the couch beside him. All the strength seemed to seep out of her bones as Anakin pulled her right into his side. He settled his head on top of her just-dried hair, one hand settling over her shoulders and the other lifting occasionally to levitate one of the children’s toys. Luke and Leia’s eyes followed the toy, cooing and reaching. Anakin would let the toy drop, just enough for Luke or Leia to grab onto it for a little while before repeating the motion. “How was your day?”

“Interesting,” was Padmé’s only response. She shifted her head out from under Anakin and tilted her face up to him. With a small smile, she added, “But nothing I couldn’t handle.”

Anakin paused, dropping the toy briefly for Luke to hold. “Is there something _to_ handle?” he asked. “Who was it?”

“No one who you should concern yourself with,” Padmé replied delicately. She sat up and swiveled her head at the chronometer. “I’m just looking forward to a relaxing night,” she said, a wistful little sigh escaping her lips. She turned back around to Anakin, her face brightening. “Is everyone able to make it?”

“As always,” Anakin replied. He turned back around to the kids, the toy swooping down for Leia’s reach. Smiling at his daughter’s little babble of laughter, he added, “You know, sometimes I think they visit more for the kids than for us.”

“Well, I wouldn’t blame them,” Padmé said lightly. Sliding off the couch, she sat between Luke and Leia, gathering them on her lap. “Who wouldn’t want to see these little faces?” she cooed, bouncing them a little on her lap. Both babies startled, but then realizing that it was only their mother, more laughter filled the room.

Anakin would have gladly frozen that moment then, just Padmé and the kids, but then there was a knock on the door. “That has to be them,” he said, and he got up from the couch. He only heard some more laughter from behind him—Luke’s, and then Padmé’s giggling “ _no_ , Luke, honey, we don’t pull Mommy’s hair”—and then Anakin slid open the door to find Ahsoka and Rex on the other side.

“We could hear you guys from the lift,” Ahsoka said brightly, handing Anakin a red box of what he assumed could only be the dessert for their night.

“Mission accomplished,” Anakin replied. He looked at Rex. “Did you guys really?”

“Only a little bit, sir,” Rex replied, and though his tone was nonchalant, the little lines curling up by Rex’s eyes told Anakin that he, too, was just barely keeping the smile off his face. Which was a whole other thing: Anakin had seen Rex smile before, of course. They had their share of jokes and laughter, but Rex after the war just smiled _more_. Which was nice. And now, watching Rex give up and grin at Anakin as Ahsoka dove past them for the babies, Anakin felt a welcome burst of warmth that there was at least another good thing that arose from the last few months.

“Come on,” Anakin said, stepping aside for Rex. “We’re just waiting on Obi-Wan now. He’ll be mortified that you two got here before he did.”

“Well, we managed to loose up some time,” Rex replied, following Anakin into the living room.

“Ahsoka mentioned that you two were busy last night,” Anakin said, nodding at Ahsoka, who was now stretched across the carpet, hiding her face behind her hands as Leia craned her neck to find her missing aunt.

“We can’t complain,” Rex replied promptly. “We’ve made some progress.”

Before Anakin could respond, there was another knock on the door. “I’ll get that,” Padmé said, disentangling her hair from Luke’s fingers. She smiled at Rex, gave Anakin’s shoulder a squeeze. “You all can get set up, now that Obi-Wan’s finally arrived. He’ll be mortified that Ahsoka and Rex arrived before him.”

A small laugh slipped out of Rex. “That’s what Anakin said.”

“How amusing,” Padmé said, tossing Anakin and Rex a teasing look. “You would almost think we were married.” That sent up some more laughter, and Anakin felt a mixture of relief and affection. If Padmé was at a place that she could joke about how they were married, then maybe today hadn’t been so bad after all. And talking about their marriage in public had been awkward at first. The Council—well, the Council hadn’t been _happy_ , but they couldn’t expel Anakin from the Order right away, now that Darth Sidious had been defeated. And the Senate—well, there had been some scandalized senators, but Padmé had remained quiet on the matters. “I’m too busy to deal with them,” she would tell Anakin, and they _were_ busy for the first few months: changing diapers, going to check-ups, feeding, napping, and all the other hills and valleys that came with becoming new parents. But that was all mostly a good kind of being busy.

“I hope I’m not too late,” came Obi-Wan’s voice, and then Anakin lifted his head to find Padmé and Obi-Wan walking back into the apartment. The shadows underneath Obi-Wan’s eyes looked a little lighter than the last time Anakin had seen him, which was a relief, but he couldn’t help but note how his clothes seemed looser, too. That wouldn’t do. “There were just some last-minute items on the agenda that the Council wanted to go over,” Obi-Wan was saying as he took off his cloak.

“You’re not late at all,” Padmé said warmly. “In fact, we’re just about to get started.”

“Great,” Ahsoka chimed from the carpet. She started to stand up, only to fall back to the ground with a light “ooph”. Luke and Leia had entwined themselves around Ahsoka’s ankles, and both children were giggling at Ahsoka’s befuddled expression. “Very funny, kiddos.” She looked up. “Some help?”

But before anyone could move forward, something in Ahsoka’s pocket started chirping. A holoprojector. Ahsoka tugged it out of her pocket, her eyebrows furrowing for just a moment before accepting the call. “Hello?”

“You have an incoming call from the Republic Judiciary Central Detention Center. Do you wish to collect—”

Before the recording could finish, Ahsoka shut off the holoprojector. “Must have been a scam call,” she said at everyone’s blank looks.

\--

After the plates had been washed and the table cleaned, Anakin found himself back in the living room, sitting next to Obi-Wan, who was staying very, very quiet so as to not wake Luke, who had fallen asleep right in his arms.

“Looks like you could use a nap, too,” Anakin commented. He cast Obi-Wan a sidelong glance. “Figured after a Council meeting, you would need it.”

“The meetings aren’t too bad,” Obi-Wan replied. He met Anakin’s gaze, giving him a tired smile. “We’re moving along steadily.”

“With the aftermath of the war?” Anakin prompted.

“We’re moving along steadily,” Obi-Wan repeated. He looked away from Anakin and back to Luke, and though Obi-Wan smiled down at the child, Anakin could sense the tension and weariness roiling off his former master in waves. Anakin had been feeling more and more of that whenever he saw Obi-Wan—and even though he knew Obi-Wan wouldn’t dare admit such, Anakin knew that things in the Council were rockier than they all wanted.

“There’s another Council meeting tomorrow, isn’t there?” Anakin asked casually. “I should go this time. Padmé’s already started working, so I don’t see why I can’t.”

“No,” Obi-Wan said immediately, looking at Anakin. “The Council knows you have other matters of importance right now.”

Something inside Anakin twinged at Obi-Wan’s tone. Guilt, frustration, something else that felt a little too familiar. “I’m sorry,” Anakin finally said. “I know you’re busy.” _Dealing with my problems_. Anakin wasn’t an idiot. He knew the Council was still reeling after the turn of the latest events. And he knew that Obi-Wan was taking the hits for him. Protecting him in his own way.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Obi-Wan said now, but Anakin couldn’t quite meet his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise we're going to have happy endings and soft scenes in this story, but also...we need to tie up some loose ends, even if it means a little bit of angst. (sorry. not really. but sorry.) 
> 
> As always, comments/kudos/subscribes are always greatly appreciated! 
> 
> ...also it's been a full week since the TCW finale, and I'm still flouncing around in denial land--


	3. Chapter 3

Obi-Wan was sorry to leave, but he knew there were meetings waiting for him tomorrow morning. So he stood up, making sure not to wake Luke as he passed him to Anakin. “You’re not staying?” Anakin asked, taking his son carefully. To both their relief, Luke remained asleep. Obi-Wan knew there had been a time when both the twins couldn’t seem to get through the night without waking at least a few times, but at five months, they seemed to at least sleep a little better.

“I have an early morning tomorrow, I’m afraid,” Obi-Wan replied.

Anakin pressed his lips together. “Of course,” he only said.

“Obi-Wan’s leaving already?” Padmé called from her corner of the room. She had been talking to Ahsoka and Rex, who only now looked up at Obi-Wan. Ahsoka, already knowing of Obi-Wan’s duties, just gave him a small wave before turning back around to Rex. Obi-Wan noticed that Ahsoka was starting to look a little drained from the night, too—she kept yawning and leaning back against Rex, which Obi-Wan noticed with some amusement made Rex stay very, very still. He knew the two had been working together in reorganizing the duties of the clone troopers, and he also knew that was a whole project in itself. The two seemed happy on most occasions, though, and judging by the otherwise relaxed look that Ahsoka and Rex both wore now, Obi-Wan assumed that things must be going along smoothly than he had initially figured. That was good.

Now Padmé stood up, and making her way towards Anakin and Obi-Wan, she frowned. “You’re sure you can’t stay for a little while longer? Or you could stay the night,” she added, glancing at the chronometer. “It’s already so late…”

“I’ll be quite fine,” Obi-Wan replied, managing a smile. “I’m only a short trip away.”

“It’s the principle of the thing,” Padmé said with a gentle smile. “Surely, you would know that by now.”

Obi-Wan bowed his head. “How could I not,” he replied. “But I couldn’t. Another time, perhaps.”

“We certainly hope so,” Padmé said. “Let’s just find your cloak.”

The three of them headed for the door, Padmé quickly picking up Obi-Wan’s cloak from the closet. Handing the garment to Obi-Wan, Padmé asked, “And we’ll be seeing you next week?”

“As usual,” Obi-Wan replied. He lifted his eyes up to Anakin, whose lips only twitched upwards. “Well,” he said, looking between the two (and Luke, who still remained asleep), “good night.” And once the Skywalker-Amidala family echoed their own farewells, Obi-Wan turned around and headed out of the apartment.

Padmé had been right about the night having already gotten late: there was hardly a droid in the hallways, let alone people. But Obi-Wan found that he preferred that quiet a little more than the usual drifts of senators and droids. At least with no one in the hallways, Obi-Wan didn’t have to bear the whispers and the pointing. Which was ridiculous in itself—Obi-Wan supposed he had gotten a little more used to the looks politicians often gave the Jedi, but now the looks were tinged with something other than their usual mixture of disdain and/or awe. Not necessarily tinged with something _negative_ , of course—but Obi-Wan would be lying if he claimed he didn’t feel weary of feeling like an animal in an exhibition.

And if Obi-Wan felt this way, he could only wonder exactly how Anakin must have felt during the last few months. Of course, Anakin had always been used to some attention. Even before taking down Darth Sidious, Anakin had always been the Hero with No Fear—the Chosen One, the youngest and greatest general of the Clone Wars—but now, Obi-Wan imagined that the increased spotlight had its tolls.

And, of course, there was the matter of Anakin being married and having children, no less. The initial newsfeeds had been mixed: some articles gushed about how the unity between a senator and Jedi could be the true symbol of peacetime, while other articles made passive-aggressive remarks about Padmé in particular. Obi-Wan knew that Padmé had kept the majority of the news away from Anakin, but he also knew that Anakin wasn’t completely blind. He knew that they both felt the sudden attention on them—civilians, Senate, and Council included.

There had been discussion around Anakin’s marriage. Tense discussions.

“He violated the Code,” Windu had said. “For years. And someone as powerful as Darth Sidious had been able to caught wind of that and manipulate Skywalker with false promises in the process.”

“But in the end, Anakin hadn’t fallen,” Obi-Wan had pointed out. He had felt all of the eyes train on him as he added, “In the end, Anakin was loyal to the Jedi.” He looked around to the Council members. “Surely, he deserves some credit.”

“We are not dismissing Skywalker’s loyalties or his service,” Shaak Ti had said, her voice as even as normal. “However, Master Kenobi, we would be foolish to dismiss the dangers of allowing him to remain in his current condition.”

Obi-Wan’s blood had run cold at the implication. “Anakin will not leave his Padmé,” he said. “Or his children.”

“But you said it yourself—his loyalties lie with the Jedi,” Windu pointed out. Obi-Wan hadn’t been able to respond to that part. He had locked eyes with Windu, just barely swallowing down his own frustration before Plo Koon broke the silence.

“I would think it foolish to make any bold movements as of now,” Koon had said. “Let the Republic find its footing in the aftermath of this war. In the meantime, we will make further deliberations on what to do with the matter of Skywalker.” Obi-Wan had been relieved at the chorus of murmured agreements around him—and even though Obi-Wan knew that Plo Koon had just afforded Anakin and the rest of the Council some more time, Obi-Wan dreaded what would happen once that time was used up.

And so Anakin had remained as the Council wished him to remain: just tucked carefully out of sight, out of mind. At first, Anakin had been grateful. Obi-Wan knew that Anakin had still been shaken from his encounter with Darth Sidious, no matter how much Anakin smiled and played off Obi-Wan’s own questions. “I’m fine,” Anakin would tell Obi-Wan every time they saw each other. “I just have to get used to all the peace and quiet. Gives me plenty of time to work, though. Look at this new—” And Anakin would show Obi-Wan whatever new project he had started, whether it be some odd extension of the crib or a mobile or some tiny mouse droid with the sole function of being a playmate to the children.

And Anakin loved being with his children too. Obi-Wan knew that much. He would come to the Skywalker-Amidala residence and find Anakin with Luke and Leia, one of the gentlest smile on his faces, and Obi-Wan’s heart would clench at how Anakin would react if he was told that the Council wanted to separate the family.

“Anakin’s children will undoubtedly prove to be Force-sensitive,” Obi-Wan had told the Council in a later meeting. “At the very least, they would have to be trained by the Jedi Order, even if Anakin was to separate himself from them.”

There had been some pause at that.

“Not all Force-sensitive children are brought to the Temple,” Ki-Adi-Mundi had said gently, and some members of the Council had relaxed a little at his voice. Of course, out of all the Jedi, Ki-Adi-Mundi could be trusted to offer some extra input on the particular information of childrearing and marriage, as he himself had to aid in the maintenance of the Cerean population. Obi-Wan hadn’t considered that Ki-Adi-Mundi’s children might have Force-sensitive, and he wondered what the master himself truly thought of the matter.

“But Skywalker is powerful,” Kit Fisto said. “It would be foolish to leave his children untrained and unguided, should they prove to have the same power.”

“Would it?” Ti had asked. “Untrained, their power might not necessarily manifest to the extent they might otherwise. They could live peacefully. Perhaps they’ll have reflexes faster than most, and perhaps they’ll have a trick or two by the time they become adults. But they couldn’t be any harm.”

“The galaxy already knows of the children,” Obi-Wan said. “It won’t be long before all kinds of unsavory sorts come looking for them.”

The Council had been locked in a frustrated stand-still at that point, and Obi-Wan knew that every single member was mulling over the new situation that they had found themselves in. Yoda had been the one to break the silence at last.

“Thoughts regarding Skywalker’s fate, have you, Master Kenobi,” the old master had said, locking his ancient eyes with Obi-Wan’s. “Share them, you should.”

Obi-Wan had taken his time to respond. “I do not think Anakin’s actions warrant his being expelled from the Order,” he said slowly. “Nor do I think it wise to ask him to cut relations with Senator Amidala or the children.”

“Are you suggesting that there not be any consequences at all?” Windu had asked.

 _Careful_. Obi-Wan had to be careful with his next words. “I am suggesting we make a compromise,” he said. “We can make at least that much with Anakin after everything he’s done.”

“A compromise,” Windu said flatly. “And since when, Master Kenobi, has Skywalker been known to compromise?”

“He can surprise you,” Obi-Wan replied. “He already has with the majority of us.”

There were at least some more grumbled assents to that, but Obi-Wan knew his words had created some unease. And frankly, Obi-Wan wasn’t sure how Anakin would take any compromise himself, either. A compromise—what kind of compromise could leave the Council and Anakin equally satisfied?

Obi-Wan’s head seemed to hurt more now than it did from when he was still fighting the war. And he knew that Anakin could tell that there was something wrong or something that he kept hidden, but now was _not_ the time to tell Anakin exactly how deeply the Council had been arguing about Anakin’s fate.

No. Now was the time to simply keep Anakin away from the thick of things. Keep him distracted because distracted meant secure, and secure meant that the Council would have more time before coming up with a proper decision that would hopefully minimize any actual damage.

Obi-Wan felt as though an eternity had passed before he finally reached his quarters at the Temple. He managed to take a quick shower before slumping into his bed. His entire body ached, and his head hurt, but when Obi-Wan closed his eyes, sleep didn’t come easily.

He stayed in his bed for, according to the chronometer, about half an hour before pushing himself out of bed. He was used to meditation—and although usually helpful, Obi-Wan frustratingly couldn’t find any relaxation in his usual exercises.

Restless. Obi-Wan had grown _restless_ , in a surprising twist of events. He would have laughed a bit to himself at that if he could. Anakin probably would have laughed. Obi-Wan could already hear Anakin now: _I thought you didn’t get on edge_.

Obi-Wan sighed—a quiet sound in the otherwise quieter room. He was glad he hadn’t taken up Padmé and Anakin’s offer for him to stay in their apartment, after all. Between Luke and Leia crying and Obi-Wan’s pacing, he wasn’t sure how the Skywalker-Amidala family would fare.

Obi-Wan settled back in his bed. It was a little past three now. He would need to get up for the Council meeting in three hours.

Three hours.

He could try for three hours.

\--

He got an hour of sleep.

\--

Obi-Wan’s head still hurt by the time he reached the Council chambers. He hadn’t had too much of an appetite, either, which Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if that was because of his headache or if that only fed his headache. He had managed down some tea in hopes that it would wake him. And the tea did _some_ of the trick. Obi-Wan had at least stopped seeing black spots every time he stood up. He would be able to get through the Council meeting, and then he could close his eyes for at least another hour before going to teach—

“I figured it was high time for me to show my face again,” Anakin said from the center of the room. His back was turned to Obi-Wan, but his head was held high in a manner that could only ever be his own. “I understand there’s some matters that still need to be discussed.”

Obi-Wan’s steps faltered. A few masters flicked their gaze towards Obi-Wan, and too late, Anakin had caught on the drift, because then Anakin turned around, his expression one of both relief and light teasing. “Good morning, Master,” he said, a smirk already halfway past his lips. “Never thought I’d actually show up before you, did you?”

Obi-Wan hadn’t expected—no, he hadn’t _wanted_ Anakin to show up to this meeting at all. Obi-Wan felt a rush of exasperation and annoyance. _Foolish_. Anakin had to know that the Council members were staring at Anakin warily even now, but Anakin’s expression remained nonchalant as ever, as though he had just walked into a debriefing rather than a Council meeting that was _supposed_ to still be dissecting what to do with him.

But then again, Anakin _couldn’t_ know.

“No,” Obi-Wan finally managed to say. “You’ve surprised me yet again.” He made his way slowly to his seat and sank down just as Windu spoke.

“We hadn’t expected you,” the master said. “And we thought we gave you orders to stay hidden for now.”

“Yes, well,” Anakin said, folding his hands behind his back, “Pad—Senator Amidala’s started going back to work, and it’ll only be a matter of time before I’ll have to come back too.” He tilted his head at Windu. “I figured, for once, that sooner would be better than later.” His eyes drifted over to Obi-Wan briefly, adding, “We’re also still discussing the aftermath of the war. I can offer whatever information I have, given that I was on the forefront of most of the sieges.” Anakin’s voice was matter-of-fact, serious in the way that Obi-Wan had only ever heard Anakin use during briefings and meetings about battle tactics. 

For a moment, no one seemed to know what to say. Then, Shaak Ti said, “I thought Senator Amidala was to take a leave of absence for an extended time.”

“She was,” Anakin replied instantly. “She is.” He paused. “She’s not planning to go all-in—she’s just on the fringes for now. She still wants to be with the children for a little while longer, but she knows how important her role is for both the Senate and for the people of Naboo.” He looked around the Council. After a heartbeat, he added, “She’s with the children right now. We’re thinking of working a better schedule in the future.”

“A better schedule,” Saesee Tin repeated, his eyebrows furrowed. “So you could manage time between the senator and the children and the Jedi Order.”

“It’s still in the works,” Anakin confessed. He looked around the Council. “I know this isn’t orthodox, but Senator Amidala and I are trying to—”

“We’re going to have to stop you right there, Skywalker,” Windu said flatly. “We’re afraid you might have confused yourself with the role of this Council meeting. And, what’s more,” he added, folding his hands on his lap, “we’re afraid you might have confused yourself with _what_ exactly the relationship between the Senator and yourself with the Jedi Order is as of the moment.”

Anakin’s eyebrows furrowed. “What are you—” He looked around the Council, his eyes moving from member to member until they landed on Obi-Wan. They locked gazes for only a moment before Yoda cleared his throat.

“Grateful we are for your duties, Skywalker,” Yoda said. “For saving the Republic and the galaxy, respect we have, yes.” He paused before adding, “But certain actions you have taken in the past, we cannot ignore.”

Anakin’s eyes flicked away from Obi-Wan’s and back to Yoda, realization slowly dawning on his face. “I see,” he said.

“Still deciding what to become of your place in the Jedi Order, we are,” Yoda continued, and though his voice remained as stoic as possible, Obi-Wan detected the slightest of something else in the lilt of his words. “Choose, we eventually will. Required, your absence is.”

For a moment, Obi-Wan thought Anakin would argue. Protest. Something. Anything.

But save for the faintest clench of the jaws, Anakin just nodded. “I understand, Masters,” he said, bowing his head slightly. “I’m sorry for wasting your time.” He lifted his head back up. He didn’t look at Obi-Wan as he walked out.

\--

Anakin was at the top of the Temple steps when Obi-Wan found him.

Bracing himself, Obi-Wan walked forward. “Anakin,” he started to say, already reaching for Anakin, but he pulled away violently.

“You didn’t tell me,” Anakin said. “Why?”

Obi-Wan let his arm drop to his side. “These are delicate matters,” he said quietly. He concentrated on the back of Anakin’s head as he added, “The Council thought it—”

“The _Council_ ,” Anakin snapped, whirling around. “I’m not asking about the Council. I’m asking _you_.” He looked at Obi-Wan, his eyes hard. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

There were a few heartbeats of silence, and then Obi-Wan said, “You have children now. A different life.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Anakin asked, exasperated.

“It has to do with _everything_ ,” Obi-Wan fired back. “There are _decisions_ that need to be made. _Precedents_ that need to be set. And that—” He stopped at Anakin’s expression. The anger had started seeping out of Anakin’s face, replaced by a weariness that Obi-Wan knew too well.

“What?” Obi-Wan asked at last. “What is it?”

Anakin’s eyes dropped from Obi-Wan’s face. “I know I’ve broken rules of the Code,” he said quietly. “I know that this is just a whole… _mess_.” He looked back up at Obi-Wan, his eyebrows knitting together. “It’s a mess,” he repeated. “But I figured that you would…” His voice drifted, and then, pushing out a sigh, he said, “I guess I was wrong.”

He left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In typical TCW fashion, Obi-Wan just can't catch a break. I promise he will eventually.
> 
> As always, comments/kudos/subscribes are greatly appreciated!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that AO3 has disabled emails for some time, so I don't really know if any of the followers of this story is actually going to get the notification for the new chapters, but on the off-chance that some of you guys do get *some* notification/just happen to stumble across my story yet again, I promise that all updates will regularly be posted on Monday by 10 AM EST at the latest.

Ahsoka woke up to the sound of a mug and a paper bag setting down in front of her. She jumped up, nearly scattering the mug, bag, and her datapad across the table, but lucky for her, Rex scooted the items out of the way before she could hit either of them. “Rex,” she said, pushing her hands up to her face. “Sorry.” She groaned, rolling her stiff neck around. There was a satisfying pop, and then she looked back up at Rex.

“I thought you said you were going to go back to your place,” Rex said, pushing the mug towards Ahsoka. She took the mug, savoring the sudden warmth of the porcelain in her hands. “Your landlord might start thinking that you were kidnapped at this rate.”

Ahsoka smiled over the mug. “Or she might just think that I’ve got more important things to do,” she replied. She took a sip, wincing at the hot caf that burned the inside of her mouth. “Should have been more careful,” she said ruefully, rubbing a finger over her lips.

“Should have gotten better sleep,” came Rex’s reply as he slid down to the seat opposite Ahsoka. He already had a datapad in hand. Ahsoka didn’t need to look at the screen to already know what was waiting for them. She had their schedule already etched in her memory—first a meeting with Senator Burtoni, and then a visit to the barracks, followed by a long string of meetings and arrangements between clone troopers who were being discharged. Despite the lengthy line of meetings with troopers, Ahsoka didn’t mind that part of her job so much. Those particular meetings felt less formal—felt more like a conversation with old friends, which the majority of them were. Most of the troopers Ahsoka and Rex spoke to were mutual friends with someone they knew, and they could usually manage to spin a conversation based off that. So that part was comfortable.

Meetings with senators, on the other hand…and Senator _Burtoni_ , at that—

“Something wrong with the caf?” Rex asked.

Ahsoka looked up at Rex. “Hm?” She set the mug down in front of her. “No, sorry,” she said. “Just…” She scowled down at the datapad. “Bracing myself for another talk with _her_.” Senator Burtoni had been difficult to deal with, to no one’s surprise. Even after the interim Chancellor—Mon Mothma—had signed onto executive orders to create a task force to handle clone trooper affairs, discomfort still simmered under the surface of the Senate. There had been a number of orders passed after that: the discovery of Nala Se’s orders from Darth Sidious, the chip that all clone troopers had been embedded with since birth—there had been messy consequences, and Ahsoka and Rex were the ones to clean up that mess.

Ahsoka didn’t mind. Truly. She had been stunned when she learned she had been recommended to take on the duties heading the sudden birth of this task force. She had been even more stunned with Chancellor Mothma had called her into the offices herself. “I understand that you have some training in both the peacekeeping and political side of things,” Mothma had told her, and Ahsoka had noticed that Mothma had delicately avoided using the term _Jedi_ , even though it had hung in the air between them like an anchor. Ahsoka wasn’t sure whether she was grateful for that gesture or not, but in the end, Ahsoka had decided that she liked this new chancellor.

“I’m not looking forward to seeing her myself,” Rex now said, giving Ahsoka a halfhearted smile, and Ahsoka felt a quick squeeze in the chest. If Ahsoka was dreading meeting with Senator Burtoni, then she knew Rex must be feeling much worse: the Kaminoan senator had made her stance on the matters of the clone troopers clear from the start, including their roles as mere soldiers. Ahsoka hadn’t met the senator before, but judging by Padmé’s face when Ahsoka first brought up her name, Ahsoka assumed that speaking to Burtoni in private would be just as challenging as debating with her on the floor.

“You don’t have to come, you know,” Ahsoka said. “I can handle Burtoni on my own.”

“And have me miss out on the fun?” Rex asked.

Ahsoka managed a small smile. “I suppose we can’t have that,” she replied. She took another sip of caf. “You going to tell me what’s in that bag?”

“Breakfast,” Rex replied, scooting the bag towards Ahsoka.

“I know _that_ ,” she said, sticking her hand in the bag. “But _what_ —” She tugged out a carefully wrapped sandwich. Eggs, cheese. She smiled to herself, unwrapping the sandwich. “You know,” she said, “you really don’t have to—”

“I know,” Rex replied, leaning back in his seat. “But I can’t have you visiting the senator on an empty stomach.” He nodded towards Ahsoka. “And besides, the owner likes me. Might as well take advantage.”

Ahsoka smiled again. “Thanks,” she said quietly.

Rex smiled back. A small, soft curve of his lip—a light crinkle of the corner of his eyes, and then he just nodded again. “Welcome.”

\--

The Senate Building was already bustling with activity by the time Ahsoka and Rex went inside. Ahsoka had hoped that she might see a few friendly faces: maybe Senator Chuchi or Senator Amidala, but no such luck. Ahsoka only got the mostly curious, other times hostile looks of senators who were either on their way to their own meetings or just clustered in groups of discussion. Passing by groups of senators or other government workers was worse: the conversation would stop as Ahsoka and Rex passed by them, and only after they were a few steps away would the conversation start again.

Ahsoka knew for the most part, there wasn’t any ill intent amongst the senators who paused to look at Rex and her. She knew that most of them were merely trying to demonstrate some level of respect, but still, Ahsoka would be lying if she didn’t feel a little uncomfortable at the sudden eyes on her. There had been eyes on her when she used to walk with Anakin and Padmé even in her Padawan days, but then had been a little different: the looks she was given had been a different kind of look than the ones senators gave her now. They were less reserved in their looking—there were fewer quick glances and more lingering stares before they would go back to whatever they were doing.

Ahsoka knew Rex felt the eyes too. She knew there was some discomfort on his end as well, despite the fact that he had been in the Senate Building himself for the occasional call for extra security. But back then, Ahsoka knew that Rex had been a part of the background. Not at all like what he was now, striding side by side with Ahsoka through the halls of the Senate Building.

Still, Ahsoka would have taken the staring over now standing in front of Senator Burtoni’s office. She exchanged a quick look with Rex. Ahsoka allowed a halfhearted smile before she lifted her knuckles to the door.

“Come in,” came Senator Burtoni’s voice.

With that, Ahsoka and Rex both walked inside. The office was brighter than Ahsoka had expected, the shades revealing the glinting Coruscant skyline in the windows. There were a few plants that Ahsoka hadn’t seen before, and a few odd purple lights that Ahsoka could only guess were more standard in the Kaminoan culture.

And there, behind a shining desk, Senator Burtoni herself sat. “Ah, yes,” the senator said, her lips curling upwards. “I remember we have this meeting scheduled.”

Ahsoka _knew_ that Senator Burtoni would remember that this meeting was scheduled. They had made this appointment nearly a month ago. Still, she kept her face carefully neutral as she bowed her head a little in acknowledgement. “Senator Burtoni,” she said, lifting her eyes back up to the Kaminoan. “Thank you for taking the time to see us.”

“But of course,” Burtoni replied, letting her hands rest on the desk. “I could always spare a few minutes.”

This meeting would be longer than a few minutes, and they both knew that, but again, Ahsoka only gave Burtoni a bland look before both Rex and she seated themselves in front of the desk. For a moment, none of them spoke. Ahsoka knew that Burtoni was taking them, probably trying to gage them out. Well, Ahsoka wasn’t about to let her.

“I assume you know why we’re here,” Ahsoka said at last.

“Yes, I took a quick peek at our correspondence before,” Burtoni replied, her lips curling again. “Something to do with the matter of the clones, yes?”

Deciding to ignore the little jab, Ahsoka replied, “As you know, Chancellor Mothma recently made an order to organize a task force to handle all matters related to the clone trooper army.” When Burtoni’s face remained passive, Ahsoka continued, “Commander Rex and I have already been coming to agreements amongst landlords both on and off-Coruscant about housing matters for any troopers who wish to be discharged, and we’ve made progress with other programs—medical care, therapy, and education just to name a few.”

“Education?” Burtoni asked, amused. “Whatever for?” She clasped her hands together. “Last I checked, the clone troopers already had their share of education in the academy.”

“Yes,” Rex said, and Burtoni looked at him for the first time since the meeting started. “But some troopers have expressed interest in learning skills and trades outside of those they learned in the academy.” If Burtoni’s steady gaze was uncomfortable—which Ahsoka was sure it was, Rex didn’t show any signs of discomfort. “Others have already started work in fields outside of those they had when they were on duty.”

“Interesting,” was all Burtoni said. She flicked her eyes back at Ahsoka. “And you’ve come to tell me this _why_?”

Ahsoka rested her hands on her lap. “We’ve been facing increased difficulties in managing to procure any actual agreements to advance our programs,” she said slowly. “Although some landlords and academies and medical facilities have been open to working with our task force, there still remains a significant percentage of people who are wary to work with us.” She leaned in a little. “Although I’m sure you already know that.”

The room was quiet. Ahsoka was dimly aware of the gentle tick of a chronometer somewhere in the room. She heard the slight squeeze of Rex’s hand curling inwards in itself as Burtoni smiled again.

“I don’t know what to tell you, my dear…Tano, isn’t it?” Burtoni asked. Not waiting for Ahsoka’s response, Burtoni fluttered a hand in some vague direction. “The majority of Coruscant institutions—and the institutions of other planets in the Republic—are well-aware of how to handle Kaminoan property.”

“Property,” Rex said suddenly.

Burtoni fixed Rex with another look. “Yes,” she replied. “Property.” She looked at Ahsoka. “You are, I assume, aware of _how_ the clone troopers first became involved with the Republic?”

“Of course,” Ahsoka replied, keeping her voice even. “The Kaminoans sold the clone army to the Republic. But,” she added, brushing away an invisible bit of dust from her lap, “before that, Darth Sidious was the one who employed the Kaminoans to make the army in the first place.” She lifted her eyes to the senator. “But of course, Kamino was rather quiet to claim the clone troopers as their own once that secret came out.”

Senator Burtoni stiffened. _Good_.

“Our demands are simple, Senator,” Rex said. “We know that you’ve been warning certain institutions to not get involved with the affairs of this task force, but by doing so, you would deliberately be going against Chancellor Mothma. Sounds an awful lot like treason.”

A muscle twitched near Burtoni’s jaw. She looked at Ahsoka. “What do you want?”

“I believe Commander Rex was getting to that, Senator,” Ahsoka replied.

Senator Burtoni directed her eyes back at Rex. “I see,” she said. “Well, then, _Commander_ ,” she said, and something inside Ahsoka reeled at the tone the senator took when she pronounced the title. “What would you have me do?”

\--

They waited until they were outside the Senate Building before letting out their first real breaths.

“Her _face_ ,” Ahsoka said at last, looking at Rex. “I thought she was going to blow right there.”

“I suspect she doesn’t get a lot of backtalk from clones,” Rex replied, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“She’ll have to get used to a lot more than just backtalk,” Ahsoka said. She cast Rex a sidelong glance. “How’re you feeling?”

“Fine,” Rex replied. “Relieved that it’s over.” He rolled his shoulders. “Don’t think I’ve been stiffer in my entire life,” he replied.

“Not even when we were carbon-frozen?” Ahsoka asked lightly.

“Not even then,” came Rex’s easy reply.

“Well,” Ahsoka said, turning back around to the Coruscant skyline. “That’s politics, I guess.” She puffed out a breath. “I don’t understand how Senator Amidala could do that for the whole day. For whole _years_.”

“You seemed to handle yourself just fine,” Rex said as Ahsoka and he neared their speeder.

“Are you kidding?” Ahsoka asked, lifting her shoulders. “ _You_ seemed to handle yourself even better. Have _you_ ever considered politics?”

“Not for me, kid,” Rex replied, hopping into the speeder. He glanced up at Ahsoka. “We’ve got other battles to win.”

Ahsoka grinned. “Can’t argue with that,” she said, and she slid into the seat next to him.

\--

“Everything should be in order,” Ahsoka told the trooper in front of her, pushing forward her datapad. The trooper—he introduced himself as Double—straightened and looked down at the datapad with incredulity. Ahsoka couldn’t help but smile a little to herself. She had managed to gage out majority of reactions at this point, but still, she couldn’t help but feel the same thrill whenever the full realization of a new life hit a trooper.

“Really?” Double asked at last, looking up at Ahsoka and Rex. “This right here—” He pointed at the datapad. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Ahsoka replied. “You should be getting this in your inbox in two to three standard days. The housing unit will be waiting for you, just as we planned.” She reached for the datapad and flicked to a different screen. “And these are some employment papers. You can come back here at any time—Rex and I will help you fill out anything you need. We can get you in touch with references too, if you need any.”

The trooper stared back down at the datapad. “I—” He looked back up at Ahsoka and Rex. “Thank you,” he said at last.

“Got any idea what you’re going to do with your new place?” Rex asked.

“I’ve got some ideas,” Double replied. “I’ve got just some stuff back at the barracks…” His voice drifted, and after a beat, he said almost shyly, “I’ve got some buddies of mine who’re planning to get some of their own requests through. This new place isn’t that big, I know, but could we—”

“We can have roommates arranged,” Rex said. “Worst comes to worst, they’ll be living across the hall.”

Double’s face lit up. “That would be—I’d really appreciate that,” he stammered, and grinning, he stood up and stuck out a hand. “Thank you, Commanders—”

Ahsoka and Rex both shook Double’s hand—or, really, Double gave their hands an enthusiastic, hard pump that jolted Ahsoka more awake than she had for the whole day. “I ‘spect you’ll be busy for the next day or so, trooper,” Rex said, his eyes crinkling as Double released their hands.

“You have no idea,” Double replied, picking up his cap. He grinned—a full-blown, toothy grin that made Ahsoka smile back.

“Have a good night now,” Ahsoka said, sitting back down at the desk. “Keep in touch, got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Double replied enthusiastically, and with a wave, he left the small office.

“Nice way to end the day,” Rex said with a light chuckle.

“Definitley,” Ahsoka agreed, stretching her arms over her heads. She just barely stifled a yawn before she added nonchalantly, “You should head back too, Rex. I’ll just get some of this place cleaned up before I go.”

“Not so fast,” Rex said, and before Ahsoka could protest, he pulled back Ahsoka’s chair, causing her to let out a sharp cry of alarm. “Out you go,” he said, spinning the chair around so she would be facing away from the desk and towards him instead. “Six nights in a row in here is stretching things a little too thin.” He walked away from Ahsoka and returned a moment later with her cloak. “Out you go,” he repeated, tossing it to her.

Ahsoka caught her cloak and mock-scowled. “How’d you know about the other nights?” she asked.

“I have my ways,” Rex replied. After a beat, he added, “I found your clothes in the locker.” The amusement slowly faded from his face as he asked, “Why would you need that many changes of clothes unless you were planning to stay here? Is there something wrong with your place? Security problems?”

“No,” Ahsoka replied hastily. “Nothing like that.” At Rex’s insistent look, she puffed out a sigh. “Just some calls,” she said at last. “Some stupid scam callers got a hold of the unit at my apartment. The holoprojector keeps buzzing all night long, and it’s driving me insane.” Standing up, she added, “And it’s not like I can get it fixed right now. I’m too busy.”

“What kind of calls?” Rex asked.

“Scam calls,” Ahsoka repeated.

“Like the call the other night? At Skywalker’s?” Rex asked.

Ahsoka paused and looked up at Rex, whose face was kept carefully blank. “Maybe,” Ahsoka said after a beat.

“Last I checked,” Rex mused, “calls from the Detention Center weren’t ever marked as scam.” He looked down at Ahsoka. “But you know that too.”

Ahsoka lifted her shoulder. “It’s just a mix-up,” she said. Clearing her throat, she walked around the desk. “I’ll get it fixed eventually. But I’ll go back to my place tonight, okay, Rex?” She cast him a look over her shoulder before putting on her cloak. “Okay?”

Rex only pressed his lips together. “Sure,” he replied. Then, making his way towards Ahsoka, he flicked off the lights of the office. “Walk you back?”

“You don’t have to,” Ahsoka replied automatically.

“We’re heading back in the same direction,” Rex pointed out.

Ahsoka managed a smile at that. “Fine,” she said, stepping outside of the office. She waited until the door was locked behind them before starting down the street. Now in the early evening, Coruscant was wide awake. Speeders buzzed both over and under them, and the neon lights of night clubs and diners blinked brightly in the sunset. Ahsoka saw a few troopers hanging around the front of a restaurant, and when Ahsoka and Rex looked at them, they gave a mix of salutes and waves. That was something that Ahsoka was getting a little more used to: sure, clone troopers had been able to have down time during shore leave, but now she was starting to notice more and more troopers out and about, which was odd, though not necessarily in a bad way.

“Have you ever thought what you’re going to do after this?” Ahsoka asked suddenly.

Rex looked over at Ahsoka. “After?” he repeated.

“After this,” Ahsoka said. She glanced back over her shoulder as though the office was still there. “There’s still a steady flow of troopers who are being put in different programs, but what do you want?” She looked up at Rex, her eyebrows furrowed together.

Rex was quiet. He looked at the street in front of them, and after a few moments, he said, “I’m not sure yet.” He looked down at Ahsoka. “What about you? Would you go back to the Order?”

Ahsoka paused. “I’m not sure yet,” she replied after some time. “Maybe.” She looked up at Rex. “But we’ve got stuff to do first.”

“The Order might still let you work in the task force,” Rex pointed out.

“Maybe,” Ahsoka repeated. “But…” Her voice drifted. “I don’t know,” she said lamely. “There’s a lot happening in the Council right now. With the Order. With the Jedi, period.” She let out a short laugh. “I think the Council has enough on their plate right now.”

Rex let out a quiet grunt. “True,” he replied. “Skywalker’s getting restless.”

“He is,” Ahsoka agreed. “I just…” She lifted her shoulders. “We’ll see what happens.” She looked up at Rex. “For both of us.”

They were quiet.

Then, Rex spoke: “We’ll see what happens.”

\--

There were messages already waiting for Ahsoka when she returned to her apartment. She paused by the large holoprojector, staring down at the insistent blinking light before finally punching it to life. As the holoprojector started reciting its usual greeting to Ahsoka, she threw off her cloak and turned on the lights. She was exhausted. More than anything, she just wanted to curl up into her bed and sleep for years, but still—

“ _You have three new messages_ ,” the holoprojector said in its pleasantly cool voice. “ _Do you wish to proceed?_ ”

“Yes,” Ahsoka replied, leaning back against the wall.

The holoprojector hummed, and the first message played: “ _Hi, Commander—it’s Jesse speaking. Since you’re not picking up, I’m assuming you’ve already headed out, but I figured I should give you a heads-up that Double’s coming over today. He’s a bit excited, but I hope you won’t put that against him_.” Ahsoka smiled. She decided to save that message.

The next message was also a pleasant surprise: “ _I hoped you’d pick up, but I know you’re busy,_ ” Lux said. “ _I just wanted to extend the proper congratulations to your recent work with the Chancellor. I saw the news. I’m on Onderon as of the moment, but I’ll give you a proper congratulations when I go back to Coruscant._ ” Ahsoka decided to save that message too.

The last message, not too much to Ahsoka’s surprise, was from Mandalore: “ _Don’t know why you bothered giving me your contact information if you’re not even going to pick up_ ,” Bo-Katan grumbled. “ _But I figured you’d want to know that I got your message._ ” Bo-Katan cleared her throat. “ _Point is, Mandalore would be proud to be a home to any of your veterans. We’re still in the process of stabilizing things here, so not right away, but…_ ” She cleared her throat again. “ _It’ll be on our priority list._ ”

Ahsoka smiled to herself. “Thanks,” she whispered.

As though hearing Ahsoka, Bo-Katan cleared her throat a third time. “ _Anyways,_ ” she said gruffly, “ _I’ll be looking forward to your answer._ ”

Ahsoka waited for the message to stop playing, but before she could shut down her holoprojector, she heard something else—another voice, a different voice not belonging to Bo-Katan. Ahsoka’s hand hovered over the holoprojector as she took in the new voice—soft, gentle. Familiar. Ahsoka frowned.

“Holoprojector,” she said, “I need you to increase the volume. Replay the message.”

As Bo-Katan’s message started again, Ahsoka shook her head. “No,” she said. “Get to the last few seconds.”

“ _I’ll be looking forward to your answer_ ,” Bo-Katan said, and then Ahsoka heard the other voice again: louder this time, but still not quite as clear.

“Holoprojector,” Ahsoka said, her heart racing, “get rid of the background noise. Replay the last seconds again.”

The holoprojector obliged, and then Ahsoka felt her blood run cold.

“ _It’s time Mandalore changed_ ,” Satine said in the background. “ _I’m proud of you, sister_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well,,,I did say I was going to divert the canon a little bit, didn't I? 
> 
> As always, comments/kudos/subscribes are always greatly appreciated!


	5. Chapter 5

Anakin’s feet led him to Padmé’s office. By now, he knew that she would have been back in the Senate Building. He was barely aware of the strange looks that the senators threw his way as he meandered his way through the halls. He didn’t care at all. Let them look. Let them stare. Let them think whatever they wanted to think. Let them whisper and point and judge, because Anakin knew that everyone else was doing the same thing anyways.

Padmé was talking to Senator Organa when Anakin walked into her office. And as soon as Anakin saw Padmé, he felt his body relax, because his wife was standing near the windows, her whole form lit by the reflection of the bright Coruscant skyscrapers. She had her hands clasped neatly in front of herself as she explained something with Senator Organa. Calm, collected, polite. That was what Padmé was, even now.

But then Padmé turned around, and her eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Anakin,” she said. Then, her brows furrowing, she asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Anakin said automatically. He looked at Senator Organa, who only gave him a tight-lipped smile. “I interrupted something.”

As Padmé opened her mouth, Senator Organa gave them both a sidelong look. “Of course not,” he said. “I was just leaving.” He tilted his head at Padmé. “I’ll send you the details later,” he said, and with that, he started to make his way for the door. He nodded his head once at Anakin, and then in the next minute, Anakin and Padmé were alone.

“What’s wrong?” Padmé repeated, walking around her desk. She closed the distance between themselves, and she tugged at Anakin’s wrists. Her eyes searched Anakin’s face, and then she lifted one hand up to his cheek. “Anakin?” Her fingers danced up to Anakin’s forehead, smoothed out his brow. “You look worried.” She frowned. “Did something happen? Are the children—”

“It’s not that,” Anakin said quickly, sensing Padmé’s sudden panic. “They’re fine. They’re safe.”

“Alright,” Padmé said, nodding slowly. “Then what is it?”

Anakin looked down at Padmé. Her eyes were wide, open, familiar. Warm. Anakin had been so afraid of losing those eyes—losing _her_ just a few months ago, and now—

“Come here,” Padmé said, and she tugged him towards her, just so that Anakin’s chin nestled at the top of her head. Anakin let out what felt like the first breath in a long time as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Anakin could smell Padmé: the floral shampoo she used, the underlying spray of some other Naboo plant, and something else that Anakin could only ever describe as Padmé herself.

Anakin let himself eventually be led to the couch. He let out a second breath as Padmé snuck a hand across his chest, lowered her head to his shoulder. Anakin’s lips found the top of Padmé’s head, then her cheeks, then her lips, and he let himself sink into her touch, her warmth for a few blinding moments before she finally, gently pulled away. Anakin swallowed back a whine as Padmé sat up. He wanted them to go back just a second—

“So are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” Padmé asked.

The corner of Anakin’s lips twitched upwards, though he didn’t feel any joy behind the movement. “Thought you would forget.”

“You can’t get anything past me,” Padmé replied lightly. She brushed back Anakin’s hair with a gentle hand. She set her thumb on Anakin’s forehead, rubbed it lightly as she lowered her eyes to meet Anakin’s. “So what is it?”

Anakin only kept his eyes on Padmé. After a moment, he said, “I love you.”

Padmé gave Anakin a quizzical smile. “I love you too,” she replied. Her face softened. “But did you come all the way over here to tell me just that?”

“Is there something wrong with that?” Anakin asked.

“No,” Padmé replied, slipping her thumb down from Anakin’s forehead to the side of his face. “I love you too.” She leaned in a little, just close enough for Anakin to feel her breath against his lips. “Which is why,” she said, a slow smile spreading across her face, “you need to stop avoiding my question.”

Anakin huffed out a half-laugh, half-sigh. He dropped his eyes down to Padmé’s hand, her wrist. Although people assumed that a senator such as Padmé would have smooth, untouched hands, Anakin knew where all the smallest of scars and callouses were from secret operations, attacks. Anakin had so often been frustrated—still _was_ frustrated, to be honest—whenever Padmé willingly put herself in danger. There had been so many arguments, made in this exact room, when Anakin protested against Padmé’s recklessness. He had looked at her each time, wondering if she was going to come back out alive—she _had_ to come back alive, and he had always been frozen with the heavy fear of loss—

He couldn’t lose her. Not now. Not when things were so close to being perfect. They had children. _Children_. They had quiet mornings and no war hovering over their heads. There was no more dangerous Sith Lords dangling over them, waiting to turn anyone over to the Dark Side or claim any more lives. They had gone through all of that and _lived_. They had survived.

By that logic, they should be happy now. Things should be settled.

Or mostly settled. Hopefully settled.

Anakin had been able to defeat Darth Sidious—but apparently, saving the galaxy wasn’t enough to warrant a pass at rules that were made centuries ago.

A part of Anakin had suspected that. He had suspected some trouble since the moment he rushed with Padmé to the medevac. He _knew_ there would be trouble, but Anakin saw Obi-Wan’s stricken look swim before his eyes again, and then he heard the sudden insistence in his former master’s voice as he told Anakin that _decisions had to be made_. And Obi-Wan, just like he did the last hundred times, had kept his part of the decision-making private.

“I saw Obi-Wan today,” Anakin said at last. “At the Council meeting.”

Padmé straightened. “And?” she asked.

“And,” Anakin said, focusing on where his thumb met Padmé’s wrist, “the Council were apparently discussing what to do with me.” His lips quirked into a mirthless smile at Padmé’s stunned expression. “Obi-Wan knew. He knew the whole time.”

Padmé looked down at their entwined fingers. Her brows furrowing, she murmured, “He _has_ been looking more stressed as of late…”

“He should have told me,” Anakin said. “He should have told _us_.”

“He might have just been trying to protect you,” Padmé said. She lifted her eyes back up at Anakin. “We knew this was coming,” she said after a beat. “We’re lucky that we got as much time as we did.”

“We shouldn’t have to be _lucky_ ,” Anakin replied. He looked down at Padmé, his brows furrowing. “I’m not going to let the Council rip us apart.”

“And the Jedi Order?” Padmé asked quietly.

Anakin paused. “I don’t know,” he said, frustrated. “They can’t just—they have to realize that some things are supposed to change, right?” He looked at Padmé. “I’m living proof that Jedi don’t have to be _unattached_ to still do some good.”

“But the Jedi have also had those rules for hundreds of years,” Padmé reminded Anakin.

“So?” Anakin asked. “There could be exceptions. There _have_ been exceptions. Master Mundi—”

“We both know that’s different,” Padmé said gently.

Anakin let out a soft groan, sinking his head back again on the couch. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Anakin watched the lights and shadows of the passing speeders dance across the ceiling. He felt Padmé’s thumb brush against his wrist. Finally, Anakin repeated, “Obi-Wan should have told us.”

“And what would have happened then?” Padmé asked.

“I don’t know,” Anakin muttered. “Probably nothing. But that doesn’t—” He looked at Padmé. “It wasn’t his call to keep that from us.”

“He cares about you,” Padmé replied. “About our family.” And despite everything, Anakin couldn’t help but feel a small thrill at the way Padmé said those words: _family_. They were a family. Padmé reached up, brushed a strand of Anakin’s hair back. “Did you at least let him explain himself?”

Anakin dropped his gaze, and Padmé sighed. “You two…”

\--

“You two have no idea how lucky you are,” Anakin said, watching Luke and Leia wriggle around on the carpet. He was on his stomach too, keeping his head propped up on his folded hands. Luke patted the carpet once, twice, before lifting his bright blue eyes up to meet Anakin’s. Luke let out a quiet bubbling coo, inching his way a little closer towards Anakin. Leia, on the other hand, only tugged at the little toys dangling from the mobile set. Both of the children were blissfully unaware of any Council or any war or any politics.

Anakin reached out to Luke, smiling as his son gripped his finger with surprising firmness. “Look at you,” he said lightly. “Gonna be as strong as me, I bet.” He paused, suddenly feeling his heart sink. He wondered if the Council had already discussed the possibility of Luke and Leia’s Force-sensitivity—or if the Council would think about—

Anakin shoved away the Council from his head. He didn’t need them to interfere with his time with the kids.

Leia let go of one of the toys, letting it spring back to the top of the mobile set. She clapped her hands, a small cry of surprise slipping from her lips. She clapped her hands again, and then one hand was wriggling back up for the toy. Anakin was already ready to lean over and dip the toy down for her—something Padmé had to remind him that he didn’t need to do—but before he could, Leia’s little fingers grasped around the edge of the toy.

As though sensing her father’s attempt to help, Leia let out another sound—one that Anakin would have sworn was one of triumph.

Luke and Leia were so undoubtedly Anakin and Padmé. Anakin knew that as well as he knew the back of his hands. Not just the physical aspects: Luke with Anakin’s eyes, Leia with Padmé’s—but the other things too. Luke’s gentleness, Leia’s stubbornness. Their personalities were starting to develop, and with each day, Anakin found some new element of them to delight in. The little way Luke’s nose scrunched when he didn’t like something, or the mighty kicks Leia gave when she was excited. Anakin could only imagine what their conversations would be once they both knew how to talk.

But at the same time, looking at his children now, Anakin wasn’t sure if he wanted to grow too quickly.

“I promise,” Anakin whispered as Luke released his finger, “nothing’s ever going to come between our family.”

The chorus of babbles from Luke and Leia was the only confirmation Anakin needed to smile again. “That’s right,” he said. “We Skywalker-Amidalas are made of strong stuff. _Really_ strong stuff,” he added, remembering Padmé snapping back into Senator Mode when Senator Organa came back into the office. Anakin had gotten the hint at that point—Padmé had to do Senate things, and anyways, Anakin wasn’t going to let Threepio look after the kids the whole day.

“Really strong stuff,” Anakin repeated. Almost as soon as those words left his lips, a knock sounded on the door.

Anakin frowned, looking at the chronometer. It was still early—but then again, maybe Padmé was able to wrap things up sooner than expected. Anakin lightened a little at that. He pushed himself off the carpet and, dusting himself off, he made his way to the door.

And he found Obi-Wan on the other side.

Anakin first took notice of Obi-Wan’s pallor, the kind that only appeared after a particularly stressful day. And Anakin knew that look a little too well because—well, Anakin knew that he was usually the reason. Like now, probably. Most likely. Anakin’s chest tightened. Obi-Wan didn’t _have_ to worry about him. Not now. Anakin could have handled things on his own. He _would_ have, if Obi-Wan hadn’t—

Anakin cleared his throat. “It’s you,” he said, trying to keep his voice flat. Trying to edge out the concern that was already starting to creep in. He wondered when the last time Obi-Wan actually slept was. But he also knew that if he asked, Obi-Wan would probably brush his question aside.

Obi-Wan steadily looked back at Anakin. “Is now a bad time?” he asked.

Anakin wordlessly stepped aside and gestured. He waited until Obi-Wan had taken at least a few steps into the apartment before shutting the door. “The kids are playing,” Anakin only said, walking back into the living room. The words slipped out like a challenge, and Anakin didn’t know if he really meant the words to come out that way, but they did, and he couldn’t stop them now.

“Ah,” were Obi-Wan’s only words as he followed Anakin into the living room. Anakin took his seat back on the carpet right in front of Luke and Leia. Luke was reaching for one of the mobiles now, his little fingers just barely brushing the corners of one of the toys. Anakin, well aware of Obi-Wan’s eyes on him, called on the Force to lower the toy just enough for Luke to take hold of it.

“Don’t tell Padmé,” Anakin said, keeping his eyes on the babies. “That toy’s a little higher up than the others, anyways.”

“I won’t breathe a word,” Obi-Wan replied.

“Yeah, well,” Anakin muttered, unable to resist himself, “should have known. You’re good at that.” That was a low blow. Anakin _knew_ that was a low blow, and his chest tightened again at the painful pause between Obi-Wan and himself.

“You’re still upset,” Obi-Wan said at last.

“So?” Anakin asked. He settled his arm on his lifted knees, watching Leia let go of one toy and latch onto another. He felt a small rush of pride at that—his daughter was already proving to be much more dexterous than he had imagined. “Does it matter?”

“You shouldn’t have to ask that.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t,” Anakin said, lifting his eyes to Obi-Wan. “Because we both know the answer.”

“The Council—”

“I’m not _talking_ about the Council,” Anakin interrupted. “I told you before. I’m talking about _you_.” He tried to keep his voice even, quiet so as to not disturb Luke and Leia, but he knew himself well enough to know that there was just the barest simmer of anger under his tone. Just enough. “You could have told me.”

“And cause more stress in your situation?” Obi-Wan asked. Anakin noticed the slight tightness in Obi-Wan’s features, the kind of tightness of controlled patience. “Padmé and you _both_ didn’t need these kinds of matters, especially with these children.” He gestured to Luke and Leia, who were completely oblivious to the conversation matter. Luke, noticing Obi-Wan’s attention, cooed, kicking his feet in the air.

“Maybe not,” Anakin replied, “but we would have handled it. Together.” He looked at Obi-Wan. “And you wouldn’t need to keep protecting me like I’m still a Padawan.”

An odd look flickered across Obi-Wan’s face, but before Anakin could pinpoint it, the expression was gone. Instead, Obi-Wan only looked down at Luke and Leia. “I know you aren’t, Anakin,” he said quietly.

“So then stop _acting_ like I still am,” Anakin said, frustration just barely bleeding into his voice. “If the Council has something to say to me or has things to settle with me, then let _me_ deal with it. Not you.” There—Anakin saw something flicker across Obi-Wan’s face, and this time, Anakin caught the slightest bit of strength drop from Obi-Wan’s shoulders, though not out of relaxation. “You don’t need to look after me anymore,” Anakin said at last. “The war’s over now. Peacetime.”

At that, Obi-Wan looked at Anakin. “Peacetime,” he repeated.

“Exactly,” Anakin said. “You’re…” He gestured briefly. “Free.”

This time, the pain on Obi-Wan’s face was apparent. His eyebrows drew together, his lips parted slightly. For a moment, neither man spoke. Anakin lowered his eyes back down to Luke and Leia. The babies had gone still and quiet now, as though sensing the importance of the discussion before them. Anakin wished they would go back to playing. He halfheartedly lowered one of the toys to their grip, but neither Luke nor Leia seemed interested anymore.

Anakin was aware of Obi-Wan shifting off the couch. He sucked in a breath as Obi-Wan settled next to him. And then Anakin felt Obi-Wan’s hand settle on his shoulder. And in that moment, despite everything, Anakin let himself sink under Obi-Wan’s grip, let some of the tightness wound inside of him release just barely so he could turn to look at his former master.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said quietly. “I don’t see you as someone who I need to _free_ from.”

“But you are,” Anakin replied, his own voice low enough to match Obi-Wan’s. “Not all masters and apprentices remain together after knighthood. But us—you—” A corner of his lips twitched. “Nothing really changed.”

Obi-Wan paused. “I don’t quite see it that way,” he said at last.

“Really?” Anakin asked. He leaned back a little. “Let’s see: we run a mission together. I come up with a plan, you argue against said plan, and then we still do my plan anyways. There’s some mishap, I steal a ship. We might crash-land the ship. We somehow save the galaxy in the process. Rinse and repeat.” He looked up at Obi-Wan, that twitch of his lips turning into a sarcastic smile. “Sounds like nothing’s changed.”

“I don’t know about a _we_ crash-landing the ship,” Obi-Wan replied. “It was always _you_ crashing the ship.”

“Technicalities.”

“No, I’m sure you were always the one crashing the ship. After all, _you_ always insisted on being the pilot—”

“Only because _you_ hate flying—”

.“Flying is for—”

“Droids,” Anakin finished. “I know.”

They settled into a silence, and this time, Obi-Wan was the one who seemed to be trying not to smile. But then he sighed again, mirroring Anakin’s slightly leaned back stance. “Do you truly believe I would ever view you as someone who I would need to free myself from?”

“Sometimes,” Anakin replied. He cast Obi-Wan a sidelong glance. “Dealing with my mess on the Council isn’t exactly something that people would want to do for fun.”

“Perhaps not,” Obi-Wan replied. He met Anakin’s gaze. Then, quietly, he added, “But I wouldn’t do it for anyone else.”

Anakin felt a sudden lump rise to his throat then. He swallowed around it, and he started to look away when a knock on the door sounded.

“That must be Padmé,” Anakin said, his voice coming out rougher than expected. He cleared his throat and started for the door. There was another knock. “Coming,” Anakin called.

But when Anakin opened the door, he found Ahsoka waiting for him.

“Ahsoka,” Anakin said. “What—” He stopped short. Ahsoka’s eyes were wide, her shoulders hunched tightly together. “Are you okay?”

“Where’s Master Kenobi?” Ahsoka only asked.

“He’s here,” Anakin replied. “Why? Is there something wrong?” He searched Ahsoka’s face. “What is it?”

Ahsoka pressed her lips together. “He’s here?” she repeated.

“Yeah, he’s—”

“I’m right here.” Obi-Wan appeared by Anakin’s side.

Ahsoka lifted her eyes up to Obi-Wan. “I got a call from Bo-Katan. And…” Her voice drifted. Her fingers fumbled for her side, and a moment later, she pulled out a small holoprojector. “I think you should just listen to this.”

So Anakin and Obi-Wan stood around the small holoprojector in Ahsoka’s open palm. They watched Bo-Katan’s form pop up in front of them, listened to her message: _We’re still in the process of stabilizing things here, so not right away, but…it’ll be on our priority list. Anyways, I’ll be looking forward to your answer._

Obi-Wan frowned. “I don’t—” he started, but Ahsoka raised a hand.

“Holoprojector,” she said, “play the last few seconds of the message. Remove the background noise, increase the volume by eighty percent.”

“Ahsoka, what—” But then Obi-Wan stopped. And so did Anakin.

When the message stopped playing, Ahsoka looked up at Obi-Wan and Anakin. She looked a little sorry then. “I think Duchess Satine is still alive.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The real world is really scary right now. I would usually keep quiet about all the hectic things of the world right now, as fanfic is usually a place where so many of us escape to. (And I know I certainly escape into fanfic, so no shame in that.)
> 
> But at the same time, I can't sit comfortably knowing that we're all totally behind a story about hope and justice and good-defeating-bad without actually wanting to put those lessons to use in the real world. That being said, please consider donating to organizations such as the Minnesota Freedom Fund, the George Floyd Memorial Fund (gofundme dot come slash f slash georgefloyd), and/or the National Bail Out Fund if you are able.
> 
> In addition, please try to educate yourself in the midst of these trying times: Ibram X. Kendi just recently released an essay in the New York Times called "How to Be Actively Antiracist", which has an incredibly detailed and digestible account of understanding the racial structures in America specifically (although I'm sure similar themes can be applied in other countries too!). There are also resources regarding organizations trying to work around racial equity and justice, book recommendations, Netflix recommendations, and podcast recommendations in that article. (I recommend '13th' (documentary on Netflix), The Hate U Give (Hulu), Just Mercy (available to rent)).
> 
> And of course, if anyone wants to learn more about ways to help/have questions about this in general, please do not be afraid to shoot me a private message either here on my social media. (katierosefun on tumblr, snippyandskyguy on Instagram.)
> 
> Love you all. May the Force be with you during these trying times.
> 
> (and yikes, that sounded like I was halting this fic: I'm not. By no means. I've still got so much more of this fic written, and updates will continue on Mondays as per usual. But I figured everyone needed some comforting-were they comforting? I really hope they were comforting-words right now.)


	6. Chapter 6

Obi-Wan was aware of the silence that followed the end of the message. The silence crashed all around him, making his ears ring and his head ache. He was aware of Ahsoka and Anakin’s eyes on him, and somewhere in the distance, Obi-Wan heard the buzz of a maintenance droid. What that droid was fixing, Obi-Wan wasn’t sure. Maybe some other apartment.

“When did you get this message?” Anakin asked at last.

“Just a little while ago,” Ahsoka replied. “I came as fast as I could.” Her eyes flicked between Anakin and Obi-Wan. “I don’t understand,” she said at last. “When I was on Mandalore, Bo-Katan didn’t say anything about Satine. So how…”

“It could have been just a different hologram,” Obi-Wan heard himself say. “Perhaps Satine left a message for her sister.”

“That didn’t sound like another hologram,” Anakin said, looking at the holoprojector still sitting in Ahsoka’s hand. “That voice was clear. If it was a hologram, we would have actually heard that part.”

“Hologram technology is always advancing,” Obi-Wan said. He looked down at the holoprojector in Ahsoka’s hand. “We can’t tell if that’s Satine for sure. And Ahsoka said it herself—Bo-Katan made no mention of Satine being alive. Quite on the contrary, actually.” He kept his voice even, tried to ignore the little tremor in his own voice at the end. He cleared his throat.

“But that was Satine’s voice,” Anakin said. “And she sounded like she was _responding_ to something Bo-Katan said. Why would Satine mention Mandalore changing otherwise, especially when Bo-Katan just mentioned Ahsoka and Rex’s work?” He appeared in front of Obi-Wan’s line of vision. “You can’t seriously think that was just another hologram.”

“I can,” Obi-Wan replied, looking at Anakin. His head hurt.

Anakin let out a frustrated sound. “Why are you being difficult about this?” he asked. He gestured towards Ahsoka. “ _She_ heard it too, right?” He looked at Ahsoka, presumably for support. And not to Obi-Wan’s surprise (and rather instead to his frustration), Ahsoka nodded.

“I don’t think Bo-Katan meant for us to hear Satine,” Ahsoka said, “which was why this makes everything so much more suspicious.” She stuck the holoprojector back to her side. “Satine was quiet, and her voice was mostly muffled. We weren’t supposed to hear her.” She looked at Obi-Wan. “If that was supposed to be just another hologram of Satine, then Bo-Katan wouldn’t have needed to hide it.”

“There,” Anakin said triumphantly, turning back around to Obi-Wan. “See? She could be alive.”

Obi-Wan felt cold. “She couldn’t,” he replied. “I watched her die.” Not just watched. _Felt_. Right in his arms, her body becoming limp in a way that Obi-Wan had already grown too familiar with.

“We thought that Maul was dead,” Anakin pointed out. “And we also thought Echo was dead. Both turned out alive.”

“This is different,” Obi-Wan said. He met Anakin’s eyes. “I was with Satine in her last moments,” he said. His voice felt far away. Everything felt far away. Obi-Wan was back in the throne room, crouched over Satine’s crumpled body. How he had crashed to his knees then—how there had been a deadly silence like there was now, only then the silence had been punctuated with Satine’s pained gasps, and then her whispered last words—

“Thank you for showing us that, Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan said at last, concentrating on the spot between Ahsoka’s montrals. “I’m glad to hear of your update from Bo-Katan. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe I have some other matters to attend to.”

He only had just started to take a few steps towards the door before he felt Anakin grab back his arm. So terribly demonstrative, that one. Still, Obi-Wan turned around.

“That’s it?” Anakin asked incredulously. “You’re just going to leave?”

“There’s nothing more to discuss,” Obi-Wan replied. He flicked his eyes up to meet Anakin’s and looked away. Anakin was too close, too intense. “Please let go of me, Anakin.”

Obi-Wan half-expected some dramatic protest, but to his surprise, Anakin dropped his hand. Still, Anakin’s expression remained as insistent as ever. “I don’t understand,” Anakin said, stepping back. “How can you just—” He cut himself off and shook his head. “I don’t understand,” he repeated.

“There’s nothing too complicated to understand,” Obi-Wan heard himself reply. “I simply choose not to jump to conclusions.”

“There’s no conclusions to jump to,” Ahsoka cut in. “It’s just a simple _fact_.” She pressed her lips together. “I’m a little skeptical too,” she said. “Bo-Katan didn’t say a single thing about Satine while we were on Mandalore, and before…” Her voice drifted, and Obi-Wan felt something kick at his chest. Ahsoka looked sorry then, and he knew that they were all thinking of Bo-Katan’s first meeting in the cruiser. Of the words exchanged between them.

“This has to be a new development,” Ahsoka finished. “Maybe Bo-Katan was planning on telling us sooner or later. Or maybe she just can’t say anything outright. Or maybe I was wrong—maybe she got Satine to say something on _purpose_ in that way, just enough to tip us off—”

“Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan started wearily, but Ahsoka wasn’t finished.

“Duchess Satine being alive would have _massive_ political implications,” she said. “It would make sense why Bo-Katan wouldn’t want the whole galaxy to know the truth right now. But she’s a friend—she’s _our_ friend, and she _knows_ that some of us were familiar enough with Satine. Bo-Katan would at least give us that.”

“And can you be sure of that?” Obi-Wan asked dryly. “You’ve worked one operation with Bo-Katan—”

“A whole siege,” Ahsoka shot back. “In case you’ve forgotten.”

“I haven’t,” Obi-Wan replied.

“Really,” Ahsoka said, folding her arms over her chest. “Because for a second there, it sounded like you were trying to discredit my trust in Bo-Katan. Or just to discredit my trust in general.” Obi-Wan detected the sharp bristle underneath Ahsoka’s words. It hurt a bit, although Obi-Wan wouldn’t admit such aloud. He distinctly remembered that same sharpness in Ahsoka’s tone when they had been standing in the cruiser together—only that time had been the discussion of the Chancellor. Which, looking back, Obi-Wan still wondered what would have happened should Anakin and he had left Palpatine to rot on the Separatist ship, but—

“You know I’m not trying to do that,” Obi-Wan said quietly.

Ahsoka’s gaze softened just slightly. “I know,” she replied. “But I don’t understand how you can be so…”

“Dismissive,” Anakin supplied. Obi-Wan met Anakin’s gaze for a second before Anakin was looking away first.

“I’m not being dismissive,” Obi-Wan replied at last. “Should Satine actually be alive…” His chest tightened. His head hurt. He tried not to notice the way Anakin and Ahsoka now looked at him. He couldn’t remember the last time Anakin and Ahsoka had both looked at him that way—long before Mandalore, of course. It must have been even further back, long before Ahsoka had left the Order. Perhaps some mission gone awry.

“I felt her die,” Obi-Wan said shortly. Simply. _Don’t linger_. He made his face a mask of calm, tried to conceal the pain needling into his head. He was cold, too—or at least, his hands felt cold, while everything else felt too warm. Obi-Wan vaguely wondered if perhaps he should have at least tried to get some more sleep after all.

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” Obi-Wan said again. He tilted his head into a small nod towards Anakin and Ahsoka, and then he turned to leave. He took one step, two before the room started to flicker before him. His head hurt. He closed his eyes briefly, tried to clear his vision at least of the flickering before taking another step.

He heard murmuring from behind him. A few footsteps. But then there was the hum of the door opening in front of him, and Obi-Wan lifted his eyes to see Padmé in the doorway, her hands laden with a few bags.

Padmé stopped short. “Obi-Wan,” she said, her face brightening. “What a pleasant surprise.” She lifted the bags in her hands. “Are you staying for dinner?”

“I was just leaving,” Obi-Wan replied, hoping his voice matched Padmé’s, but the senator’s eyes were already sliding away from his face and behind him. When Obi-Wan turned around, Anakin and Ahsoka gave him but blank looks, which Obi-Wan didn’t trust for a minute.

“Really,” Padmé said lightly, drawing Obi-Wan back to her. “You left early last night. This is your way to make things up to us.”

“Exactly,” Anakin said suddenly. “Obi-Wan, you owe us more of your time. That’s how things work, right? Here,” he added, swooping by Padmé’s side, “I’ll carry _those_ —you relax for a bit. Actually…” He shot Obi-Wan a sidelong glance. “Maybe make sure our esteemed guest stays put.”

Before Obi-Wan could argue, Padmé replied, “But of _course_.” She walked forward and, taking the sleeve of Obi-Wan’s robes, she added, “And look, the babies are asleep—we’ll have to be a little quiet, but I’m sure you won’t mind that, would you, Obi-Wan?” Not waiting for an answer, Padmé added, “You too, Ahsoka. I think we all have some unwinding to do.”

\--

Anakin was watching him again. Obi-Wan made sure to eat at least a few bites before he could say anything. But Obi-Wan hardly tasted the food. He chewed, swallowed, repeat. The conversation was full of little nothings: Luke and Leia had woken, and they bounced a little in their high chairs as Padmé and Anakin alternated between spooning food into their mouths.

Ahsoka’s chatter took up most of any remaining silence. Updates on the task force efforts, updates on a holodrama that she had started watching with Rex. (“We like the funnier ones,” Ahsoka shared. “We tried to watch one of those soap-y ones, but we couldn’t get past the second episode. So much drama.”)

The conversation eventually switched over to Padmé’s afternoon in the Senate—and Padmé only gave an exasperated little smile as she mentioned that things were still a little hectic, of course, but: “I’m sure things will settle down eventually,” she said. “People are still adjusting to peacetime, and many senators have been getting mixed reports on the state of their home worlds.” She had looked around the table. “But I’m sure most of you know that already.”

There had been an awkward silence at that, the only sounds being the distant clink of silverware and the speeders outside.

Now Padmé looked around the table again. “What’s the matter?” she asked, a crease appearing between her eyebrows. She set the spoon she had been using to feed Luke down. “You three have been acting strange ever since I got here.”

The silence lasted another few seconds before Ahsoka cleared her throat. “Speaking of mixed reports on home worlds,” she said, pushing her plate away, “I received some interesting updates from Mandalore. From Bo-Katan, actually.”

“Yes,” Padmé said, her eyebrows still drawn together. “How is Mandalore?”

“Things are still…difficult,” Ahsoka said. “Of course. But Bo-Katan said that she was already looking into how Mandalore could assist in the task force. Offering positions, housing units for veterans of the Clone Wars.”

Padmé relaxed. “That’s wonderful,” she started to say, but Anakin cut her off.

“It’s not just that,” he said, flicking his eyes over to Obi-Wan. “Ahsoka didn’t actually speak to Bo-Katan herself. That was just in a recording. There was something else.”

This time, Padmé looked at Obi-Wan too, the look on her face quizzical. When Obi-Wan didn’t say anything, Padmé turned to Ahsoka. “I see,” she said slowly. “What exactly was there?”

Ahsoka reached for her holoprojector. She placed it on the table and looked around. “We’ve already discussed what this could be,” she said. “But…well.” She played the message, and this time, Obi-Wan could have sworn the message was clearer—louder—than before. He heard _her_ again. Undeniably, painfully, wonderfully, terribly her.

Only Luke and Leia’s babbles filled the apartment.

Then Padmé asked, “How long have you had this message?”

“I only just heard this a few hours ago,” Ahsoka replied. “I came here as soon as I figured out who was speaking.” Obi-Wan was grateful that for once in the evening, Ahsoka wasn’t looking at him. “I know this is a lot to unpack, and I know this couldn’t come at a worse time…” Her voice drifted into incredulity. “But this has to be addressed, right?”

“If Satine’s alive and allowing clone troopers to stay on Mandalore, then yes, of course,” Padmé replied. She hesitated.

“Why do I feel like there’s a _but_ coming?” Anakin muttered.

Padmé gave Anakin a look that Obi-Wan might have enjoyed on other nights, but tonight, Padmé’s unimpressed half-glower didn’t do much to ease the spirit of the apartment. “ _But_ ,” Padmé said, “these things are delicate.” She looked at Ahsoka. “I agree that has to be Satine, and I’m _glad_ that’s Satine, but…” Her brow furrowed. “Mandalore is fragile enough as it is. Judging by the quiet from that planet already, I can’t help but think that most Mandalorians don’t know of Satine’s…recovery either.”

“Then why bother slipping this message?” Ahsoka asked. She looked around the table. “You all heard the message,” she said. “Bo-Katan isn’t an idiot. She wouldn’t have slipped that message in unless she needed us to address that issue.”

“But would you be able to do that?” Padmé asked gently. “You’re already spread thin with the task force duties.”

Ahsoka’s shoulders slumped a little, and Obi-Wan felt bad for the girl then. Because she _was_ a girl—really just a child, forced too quickly to grow up like the rest of the children who had fought in the Clone Wars. But Ahsoka straightened her shoulders in the next second, her chin lifted. “Just a day,” she said. “I can go check the scene just for a day.”

“Mandalore’s still unstable,” Anakin warned. “You can’t go in there alone.”

“No,” Ahsoka and Obi-Wan said in unison.

Anakin looked at them. “What?” he asked. “I didn’t even—”

“We know that look,” Padmé said. She lifted her eyes up to Anakin, and Obi-Wan saw a silent battle come between the two, until finally, Anakin loosed a sigh and sank back into his seat.

“You’re right, you’re right,” he grumbled, much to Obi-Wan’s surprise and suspicion. “ _I_ can’t go.” And then he turned expectantly to Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan’s heart sank. “No,” he said automatically.

“You and Ahsoka know Mandalore best,” Anakin pointed out. “And as keepers of the peace—”

“Not yet—” Ahsoka began just as Obi-Wan replied, “That’s not how this works, Anakin.”

“Then how _is_ this supposed to work?” Anakin asked, frustrated. Sensing their father’s obvious annoyance, both Luke and Leia banged their fists against their seats, their legs squirming to be let out. Anakin winced, setting a hand on Leia’s head. “Sorry, sorry,” he said, though whether he was saying that to his children or to the rest of the table, Obi-Wan frankly didn’t know.

“I think we’re all missing the most important question,” Padmé said softly, her warm eyes sweeping over to Obi-Wan, and he knew in the pinch in his chest what the senator was going to ask even before the words were fully out of her lips. Still, she asked—she had to ask: “How do you feel about this, Obi-Wan?”

“In the past, the Council has—”

Padmé smiled. “I asked how _you_ feel about this, not the Council,” she said, and Obi-Wan felt a flare of both exasperation and something else—something he couldn’t quite put a finger on—at the ghost of Anakin’s own words just earlier today.

But Padmé wasn’t the only one waiting for an answer. Even Luke and Leia had quieted, and Anakin and Ahsoka were waiting expectantly.

Obi-Wan looked around. Everyone was watching him so earnestly, so patiently. Obi-Wan looked down at the holoprojector still sitting on the table. Only minutes ago, he had heard her voice again. And he knew that for all the arguing he did, the truth was still sitting before him, plain and simple. And yet, such a truth felt foreign. She could be _alive_. Or, no, she _was_ alive. Somewhere, possibly on Mandalore, someone was alive and possibly waiting for some answers to reveal themselves.

And would he dare— _should_ he dare—

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan said abruptly, standing up. He ignored the sound of the chair scraping behind himself. “I should…” The rest of the world became a blur as he stumbled away from the table, towards the door. He heard some protests, but he was out of the apartment, walking quickly down the hallways, down the lifts—

He only made it past the front of the apartment buildings before Anakin and Ahsoka had caught up to him. Of course they would.

Obi-Wan came to a slow stop. He felt Anakin and Ahsoka stop behind him, and when they start to guide him back to the apartment, he didn’t argue. He didn’t argue once, not when they got back in the lift, not when they walked down the hallways, not when they made their way back inside the apartment. He didn’t argue when they all sank down on the couch, and he didn’t argue when Anakin grabbed a blanket and tossed it over themselves.

Eventually, Padmé walked into the living room as well. The babies floated over in a transport crib that Obi-Wan vaguely remembered Anakin building a few months ago. Padmé sank beside Anakin’s side, the crib stopping a little ways from the couch. Both Luke and Leia were fast asleep, as was Anakin, his head slightly tilted towards Obi-Wan’s shoulder. On Obi-Wan’s other side, Ahsoka slept too, her lips just barely parted.

“I’m sorry,” Padmé whispered suddenly, curling up beside Anakin’s side. Anakin shifted a little in his sleep, his head lolling towards his wife, but he didn’t wake. “About Satine. I know this must be…difficult.” Under the dim glow of the lights, Obi-Wan couldn’t quite make out her expression. But he knew that voice.

And maybe Obi-Wan’s body just felt too heavy, or maybe his heart felt too heavy, or maybe Padmé was just a good speaker in that moment, because Obi-Wan found himself replying, “It is.”

Padmé was quiet. “Do you think you’ll be going to Mandalore soon?”

When Obi-Wan spoke next, he knew that he was speaking the truth.

“I don’t know.”

When the lights turned off, Obi-Wan closed his eyes too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments/kudos/subscriptions are greatly appreciated!


	7. Chapter 7

Anakin woke up with a crick in his neck. He blinked his eyes open, just barely registering the dim grey light filtering through the window’s blinds. His entire side was sore from being rolled over on one position for the entirety of the night, and when he rolled over on his other side, he almost smacked his forehead against Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

Luckily, Anakin opened his eyes just in time, and he lifted his head before he could wake his former master. And to Anakin’s relief, Obi-Wan stirred only a little—a slight shift of his head away from Anakin—before settling back into sleep. Anakin let out a small sigh as he pushed himself off the couch. His whole body ached and protested as he stretched his arms over his head. Luke and Leia still slept in their crib, and to Anakin’s relief, they hadn’t once made a fit during the night.

Anakin glanced back around the living room. Ahsoka was still asleep too, her head just barely brushing Obi-Wan’s shoulder. And despite the events of last night rushing back to him, Anakin couldn’t help but smile a little. They deserved the sleep. He crept past the living room and towards the bedroom, where he found Padmé already awake, combing her hair.

“Good morning,” she said, looking at him in the mirror. “Are the others—”

“Still sleeping,” Anakin replied. He hovered by the doorway for a moment, watching Padmé comb out the last curls of her hair before she turned around completely. His chest tightened at the quizzical smile Padmé shot him. He managed a small smile back, and then he was walking towards Padmé, sinking down on the seat in front of the vanity with her, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to her lips that Padmé returned with a light laugh.

“Okay?” Padmé asked, her breath little more than a tickle against Anakin’s lips.

“Yeah,” Anakin replied. “Really okay.”

Padmé smiled, and for a moment, nothing existed except the silence in their bedroom and themselves. But then Padmé looked past Anakin’s shoulder and, when apparently finding that there wasn’t anyone waiting beyond the doors, asked, “What are you going to do?”

Anakin didn’t have to ask what Padmé was referring to. “I don’t know,” he replied. He turned to the door too, but no one appeared. “But we can’t just _ignore_ it.” He turned back around to Padmé, his brows furrowed.

“Bo-Katan’s a…” He searched for the word. “Friend of Ahsoka’s. She could still at least manage a visit over there. _And_ the fact that Bo-Katan offered Mandalore for veterans…” His voice drifted at Padmé’s expression. “What?”

“Mandalore’s still not exactly involved with the Republic,” Padmé replied slowly. “I’m sure they can still offer their services for veterans, but…” She stood up. “There’s going to be some pushback and confusion in the Senate about how and why Mandalore should suddenly be opened to the clones.”

Anakin frowned. “But that’s ridiculous,” he said. “Rex and Ahsoka helped with the Maul situation—”

“I know,” Padmé said gently. “But Ahsoka wasn’t acting as a member of the Republican army.” She tapped her fingers against the vanity. “A case can be made since you made Rex the commander,” she murmured, “but even then…” She looked at Anakin, her dark eyes steady and unwavering. “I expect some more trouble on the horizon.”

Anakin pressed his lips together. “What are you saying?” he asked.

“I’m saying we should tread carefully,” Padmé replied, standing up. She brushed her hair back over her shoulders, and turning back around to Anakin, she added, “If Ahsoka goes to Mandalore, then she’ll have to do so quietly. She’s already taken enough flack for the task force already—she doesn’t need any more difficulties on the political front.”

Anakin stood up. “What if Ahsoka came as an accomplice or a consultant?” he asked. “We have to at least show Bo-Katan’s message to the Council—” Anakin cut himself off, feeling sudden triumph. “And they’ll want to send someone over to Mandalore to check their progress.” Anakin grinned. “They would _have_ to send Obi-Wan at that point.”

“They would,” Padmé replied. “He _would_ make the most sense. And given that Ahsoka was the one who got the message, she would be another familiar and friendly face for the Mandalorians.” She shot another quick glance to the door, and though there was no movement, she lowered her voice anyways. “But I’m worried for Obi-Wan.”

Anakin felt a kick to his chest. “I know,” he replied just as quietly. “I am too.”

“Did he ever _talk_ about Satine’s death?” Padmé asked, sitting down next to Anakin. “I remember hearing the news, but he didn’t—”

“No,” Anakin replied, looking down at the ground. “He doesn’t—” He looked at Padmé. “Whenever he talks about Satine, he…” He remembered a certain trip back to Coruscant, one filled then with amusing glances and a certain duchess’ hand brushing against Obi-Wan’s face. He hadn’t seen Obi-Wan look like that _ever_. He remembered how his former master’s eyes had lingered at the spot where Satine had just been, and he remembered laughing a little to himself—and also having some grudging respect for Satine in that moment.

And then Anakin remembered a different occasion: this one not quite as happy. Anakin remembered his own quarters, blinds drawn. Obi-Wan sitting at the edge of his bed, his voice quiet and hesitant as he mentioned Satine and—

“He had feelings for her,” Anakin said. “ _Has_.” And yet, another time: only this time, Anakin remembered Bo-Katan’s fierce hiss of words from across a holoprojector, followed by the pained silence from Obi-Wan that followed shortly after. “But he’s still…” He looked at the door, then back at Padmé. “ _You_ saw him last night. You heard him last night.”

Padmé only gave Anakin a sad smile. “And you can’t understand why.”

Anakin puffed out a frustrated breath. He let his head hang to the floor for a moment, and then he said, “I know what answer he’d probably give us.” He leaned back against the vanity, watching the morning sunlight slowly drift into the bedroom. “The _Code_.” Anakin tasted the bitterness in his mouth before the words had finished leaving his lips. “He lives by it.”

“Maybe,” Padmé replied. “But Code or not, he’s still Satine’s friend, isn’t he?” She settled a gentle hand on Anakin’s arm. “He can at least allow himself to admit that much. As for the rest…” Her voice drifted. “He’ll just have to figure that out on his own.”

Anakin’s shoulders sank. “Yeah,” he muttered. He reached for Padmé’s hand, and their fingers twined together. Anakin squeezed once, and Padmé squeezed back.

“Now come on,” Padmé said, dragging them both away from the vanity. “We can’t let our guests sleep the whole day away.”

\--

But when Padmé and Anakin reached the living room, they found that Obi-Wan was already awake.

“Sleep well?” Anakin asked, and despite the conflicting emotions raging inside him, he couldn’t help but smirk a little at Obi-Wan’s little wince at the sudden brightness of the room. He noticed the mess of the back of Obi-Wan’s head too, but he decided to not say anything as Obi-Wan turned towards him.

“What time is it?” asked Obi-Wan by way of response.

Anakin glanced at the chronometer. “A little past seven,” he replied. He looked at Obi-Wan. “When’s your meeting?”

In actuality, Anakin didn’t know if Obi-Wan actually _had_ a meeting, but not to his surprise, Obi-Wan replied promptly, “In an hour.”

“Well, great,” Anakin decided to say. “You’ll have time for breakfast.”

“I don’t—”

“Tea doesn’t count as breakfast,” Anakin said over his shoulder, already walking towards the kitchen. “Right, Padmé?” He only heard his wife’s faint laughter, followed by Obi-Wan’s exasperated half-sigh, half-groan. Before any further protests could be made, Anakin tugged out a carton of eggs. He heard the waking coos of the babies, and when he looked up, he found Padmé and Obi-Wan lifting the twins out of the crib.

That was Anakin’s signal to get out the formula. He heard the twins’ shrieks of laughter as Anakin floated the formula bottles over to Padmé, who only rolled her eyes and mouthed, _show off_ before plucking one of the bottles out of the air. Anakin only grinned before the second bottle was picked up, and he turned back around to the eggs.

The twins plus Anakin’s movements in the kitchen finally woke Ahsoka, who only groaned and pushed a couch pillow up to her face.

“Up and at ‘em, Snips,” Anakin called as Ahsoka rolled over on her side. Ahsoka opened her eyes, and blinking a few times, she scowled and sat up.

“I don’t get it,” she mumbled, rolling her head around her shoulders, “how come you’re suddenly a morning person now?” She turned around to Padmé and Obi-Wan, who were holding the twins. Standing up, Ahsoka leaned over the couch and planted a quick kiss on both Luke and Leia’s heads. “Did _you two_ make Skyguy a morning person?”

“Kids do that,” Anakin replied as Leia babbled back at Ahsoka. “You’d be surprised.”

“Add that to a growing list of surprises,” Ahsoka said lightly, sliding off the couch. “Including…” She padded over to the kitchen, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “Eggs?”

“Is that okay?”

“Depends,” Ahsoka replied, leaning against the counter. “Are you going to dump an entire jar of—”

“That was _one time_ ,” Anakin said.

“And my tongue still hasn’t forgotten it, thanks,” Ahsoka replied. She pushed herself off the counter and, opening a cupboard, asked, “Toast?”

“Take it away,” Anakin said, pointing at her with a spatula. Ahsoka only grinned before tugging out the bagged loaf. The entire apartment was quickly filled with all the morning sounds Anakin had grown familiar with over the last few months: the sizzle of the pan, the quiet bell of the toaster, the twins babbling and giggling up at Padmé. And a few times, Anakin managed to lift his head to take a quick glimpse of Obi-Wan, who had taken to quietly pacing around the living room, Luke humming in his arms. Anakin watched one of Luke’s fists reach up for Obi-Wan’s face, and he saw Obi-Wan’s face soften in a way he had only ever seen a few times.

 _He cares about our family_ , Padmé had said.

Anakin believed that. He did.

But there was still the matter of the Council, the Code. Anakin slid his eyes away from Obi-Wan before his former master could look his way. But taking the plates out of the cupboard, Anakin could feel Obi-Wan’s eyes on him now, and Anakin wondered exactly _how_ much Obi-Wan truly cared about his family—and how far that care would actually go, especially if the Council might ask him to do something that Anakin would never allow.

“Here,” Ahsoka said, and Anakin blinked. He hadn’t realized he had been holding the plates as tightly as he had until Ahsoka tugged them out of his hands. She set a few pieces of toast on each plate, and casting a sidelong glance at Anakin, she asked, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Anakin replied. “Fine.”

Ahsoka looked up at him carefully, and then Anakin added quickly, “You? How’d you sleep?”

“Fine,” Ahsoka replied. “I’m fine.” She reached over Anakin and grabbed the pan.

Anakin waited until Ahsoka had finished portioning out the eggs before asking, “Does your landlord ever ask you why you’re not at your own place?”

“Nope,” Ahsoka replied. She shoved one of the plates to Anakin. “The landlord doesn’t really care.” She paused, and then, looking up at Anakin, asked, “At some point, do you think you could fix my holoprojector, though? The main one at my place?”

“What’s the problem?” Anakin asked, levitating the other plates near the table. He ignored Padmé’s exasperated shake of a head at the gesture. “Holoprojectors should be fairly simple to fix.”

“Yeah, but…” Ahsoka’s voice drifted, and Anakin turned back towards her. Ahsoka was biting down on her bottom lip, her hands curled into anxious little balls on the counter. Anakin frowned.

“I’m just kidding,” he said. “I’ll take a look at it whenever’s good for you.”

A relieved little smile broke out over Ahsoka’s face. “Thanks,” she replied. “It doesn’t have to be done right away—I suspect I’ll be going off-world pretty soon anyways.” There was a slight dip in her voice as she mentioned that part, and even without Ahsoka flicking her eyes in Obi-Wan’s direction, Anakin already knew what she had to be referencing.

Lowering his voice, Anakin asked, “So you want to go to Mandalore? Really? Can you do that?”

“I don’t see what choice I have,” Ahsoka replied, her voice equally as soft. “I could probably visit under the pretense of surveying Mandalore for the task force. It just wouldn’t hurt for me to also go looking for Satine too.”

Before Anakin could respond, Padmé called, “What are you two still doing back there?”

“Just getting the twins’ breakfast!” Anakin replied, reaching for the cereal in one of the cupboards. He dumped small portions into a pair of bowls. He turned towards Ahsoka. “And what about Obi-Wan?”

“That’s something we’ll still have to figure out,” Ahsoka said grimly, taking one of the bowls from Anakin. He could only nod as they both walked out of the kitchen. Anakin found Obi-Wan and Padmé already seated and the twins already in their high chairs.

And for the duration of breakfast, things went smoothly. Anakin kept wondering when any of them would say anything of last night’s revelations, but each time he looked up at Padmé, she would shake her head just a little. And Ahsoka seemed to be thinking along the same lines, because she too kept quiet.

But just as Anakin thought he was going to combust from the silence, Obi-Wan suddenly said, “I’ve been thinking.”

Everyone startled at that. Anakin turned sharply towards Obi-Wan, but he was contemplating his mostly-empty plate. Anakin felt some relief in that—at least he ate something.

“Yes?” Padmé was the one to ask.

Obi-Wan lifted his eyes up to all of them. “I agree Mandalore might be in need of some supervision, especially given the recent state of things,” he said slowly.

“So you’ll go to Mandalore?” Anakin asked before he could stop himself.

Obi-Wan looked at Anakin warily. “While I _agree_ that Mandalore might be in need of some supervision, I’m not sure the Council would let me be the one to go,” he said. He turned towards Ahsoka, giving her a slight tilt of his head. “As Ahsoka was the one who’s most recently been in contact with Bo-Katan, the Council might think that Ahsoka could be fine on her own. No Jedi interference would be required.”

Anakin’s heart sank. He looked at Ahsoka, who only returned the exasperated look.

“Wouldn’t the Council want to know of the message from Mandalore?” Padmé suddenly asked. The table went still, and then, turning to Ahsoka, Padmé asked, “Would you be comfortable letting Obi-Wan or Anakin deliver the message to the Council? I’m sure we should at least wait to hear what they have to say.” Shrugging, Padmé added, “Even if the Council don’t deem Jedi assistance necessary, we should at least consider what they have to think, don’t we?”

Anakin couldn’t quite decipher the look on Padmé’s face as she surveyed the table. He wasn’t sure whether he liked the idea or not either—but then again, looking at Obi-Wan, Anakin wondered if his former master had an idea of what the Council would say either.

Ahsoka was the one who spoke first. “I’ll allow it,” she said, setting her holoprojector on the table. She slid it toward the center. “But whatever the Council says, I’m still going to Mandalore.”

That caught Obi-Wan’s attention. “You are?” he asked.

“I am,” Ahsoka replied evenly, crossing her arms. “At the very least, I have a duty to the task force to at least check Mandalore before letting any troopers go over there.” Then, nodding down at the holoprojector, she added quietly, “But I’ll be waiting in case anyone wants to accompany me on the trip.”

Anakin looked over at Obi-Wan.

And this time, Obi-Wan looked back at Anakin.

 _Say something_ , Anakin thought.

Obi-Wan only turned back to the holoprojector. An eternity seemed to pass before he finally reached across the table and picked up the small device. “I will let you know of any developments,” was all he said.

\--

Anakin knew he technically didn’t have to be at the Temple. Actually, he knew he technically shouldn’t be in the Temple, let alone outside the Council chambers, but he still waited. He leaned against the wall opposite the doors, arms folded over his chest and foot tapping impatiently against the carpeted floor.

He wasn’t sure why he had bothered to come here in the first place. Just that after Obi-Wan had left for the Council meeting and Ahsoka for the task force headquarters, Anakin was left pacing around the apartment.

Padmé, in the meantime, had had out a datapad, and only after a few minutes of pacing did Anakin finally look at his wife. “What’re you looking at?” he asked, unable to stand the silence any longer.

“Research,” Padmé replied. She hadn’t bothered looking up from the datapad as she added, “I have some people looking for intel on Mandalore’s history. And potential recent technological developments.”

That made Anakin stop. “You’re trying to figure out how Satine survived?” he asked.

“It’s worth knowing,” Padmé replied. She looked up at Anakin then, the look in her eyes grave. “We need to be prepared for any potential political pushback. You’d be surprised by how some worlds are particular about how their rulers can be chosen in cases of sudden recovery.”

“Really,” Anakin had said.

“Really,” Padmé had replied. She had smiled a little then, and then, looking back down at her datapad, added, “He needs you now, you know. More than you think.”

Anakin had stopped at that. “What’re you talking about?”

“Your best friend is going through some difficult news,” Padmé said, her eyes still on her datapad. “If I were him, I would need someone to talk to after the meeting.”

“Obi-Wan doesn’t talk to people, remember?” Anakin muttered.

“You know that’s not true.”

“I’m pretty sure I do.”

“Well,” Padmé said, “maybe he’ll surprise you this time.”

And Anakin had spent the next few minutes pacing around the apartment, and then, with a frustrated sigh, he had looked down at Padmé and said, “I’ll be back soon.”

“Say hello to him for me,” Padmé only said as Anakin kissed her cheek.

So Anakin was still standing in front of the Council chambers, his head running with possible explanations he might have to give to a Jedi master who might just happen to come across his way. But luckily, no one passed his way except for a cleaning droid, which Anakin didn’t mind.

The sun slowly rose, and Anakin took to standing in front of the Council chambers to sitting against the opposite wall. He rested a hand on a bent-up knee, head tilted back against the wall and eyes just barely on the brink of closing. The hallway was comfortably warm, and of course, it was so _quiet_ —

But then, just as Anakin wondered if taking a nap right in front of the Council chambers was a good idea or not, the doors suddenly slid open, and Anakin rocketed to his feet.

He half-expected to see the other Council members file out first, but to his relief, only Obi-Wan stood before him.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, stopping short as the doors slid behind him. “You’re here.”

“In the flesh,” Anakin replied. He leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest as casually as he could. “So? How did it go? Are you going to Mandalore?”

There was a silence, and Anakin was about to ask the question again when Obi-Wan said, “It would appear so.”

Anakin straightened, dropping his arms to his sides. “That’s—” He watched Obi-Wan’s face, which remained as still as ever. “That’s good, isn’t it?” He took a step towards Obi-Wan.

 _Come on_ , he thought. _Say something_. “Obi-Wan?”

For a moment, Anakin thought that Obi-Wan wouldn’t say anything at all, but then he felt the slightest of tremors from his former master, felt the sudden grief and _pain_ slipping in between their shields—

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin repeated, quieter now. _Talk to me_. He took another small step forward, and when he set his hand down on Obi-Wan’s arm, Obi-Wan flinched, as though he hadn’t noticed Anakin in the first place. “What is it?”

When Obi-Wan finally looked up, Anakin momentarily forgot about being angry with him—he forgot about the frustration and the resentment and the bitterness, because in that moment, all he saw was a bone-deep weariness and pain that left him speechless.

Almost speechless.

“What is it?” Anakin repeated. _Say something_.

They stood in silence. Anakin wondered if maybe the rest of the Council would come walking out, but the doors remained closed.

“She died in front of me,” Obi-Wan said at last. His eyes slid past Anakin, towards some other place away from the Temple. “I watched Maul…” His voice drifted, and Anakin didn’t ask for him to finish. He hadn’t ever asked Obi-Wan how it happened—and the Mandalorian news hadn’t exactly shared much detail either. But Anakin wasn’t about to ask now.

So instead, Anakin said, “She has a second chance now. Not a lot of people can say they have that.”

“And at what cost?” Obi-Wan asked quietly. “How would she be alive?”

 _Lost_ was never a word Anakin had ever thought to describe Obi-Wan. He had always seemed so sure of himself, an anchor amongst the waves of whatever situation they were in. But right now, looking at Obi-Wan…

“Guess you’re about to find out,” Anakin only replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone's interested, I have a Spotify (username katierosefun) with playlists in correspondence to the TCW trio (my happy one is called "a family.", my chaotic one is called "our last brain cell", and I have some mildly sad TCW character/relationship-focused playlists there too, all of which I've been listening to on repeat while writing this fic).
> 
> And as always, comments/kudos/subscriptions are greatly appreciated!


	8. Chapter 8

Ahsoka’s apartment building still wasn’t quite awake when she finally reached her apartment. She knew that much because her neighbors were quiet, even their loth cat not yet out near the lift. Ahsoka supposed she was a little relieved for the quiet. Her head still rang from the goings-on of last night, everything from the painful meeting with Senator Burtoni to the— _well_. Ahsoka wasn’t sure if there was anything that could _quite_ top the very likely possibility that Duchess Satine Kryze was alive.

So Ahsoka was relieved for the peace and quiet, even if it was just temporary. She stepped into her apartment. She only needed to take a quick shower and change her clothes before heading off to headquarters, where she would let Rex know about the urgent business that now called her to Mandalore. Ahsoka supposed that she could have just taken a shower at Anakin and Padmé’s place—they wouldn’t have minded, but Ahsoka wasn’t about to borrow Padmé’s clothes.

Ahsoka grabbed a set of clothes from her dresser and was about to step into her refresher when she noticed the main holoprojector’s blinking green light. She paused again. She really didn’t have that much time—but still, maybe Bo-Katan had called her again. Hopefully with more information—whether about Mandalore’s current situation or Satine, Ahsoka didn’t know, but that hope was enough to get her to turn the holoprojector on.

“ _You have one new message_ ,” the holoprojector said. “ _Do you wish to proceed?_ ”

“Yes,” Ahsoka replied, holding her clothes to her chest.

“ _This is an incoming call from the Republic Judiciary Central—_ ”

Ahsoka shut off the holoprojector. _That_ wasn’t a message she needed to hear.

She was going to be late.

She walked into the refresher, ignoring the still-blinking green light at her holoprojector.

\--

To Ahsoka’s relief, Rex hadn’t yet arrived to headquarters by the time she reached the building. She unlocked the door, slid inside, turned on the lights. She surveyed the small office space. Things were in order, just as Ahsoka and Rex had left them last night. Their data pads still sat at the desk, charging. Ahsoka walked over to hers, flicking through messages from political dignitaries, troopers: she knew there weren’t any meetings lined up today, but there _were_ some calls that she would probably have to make on her way to Mandalore. She could work remotely, Ahsoka decided, if things somehow got clogged up over the course of the next day or so.

Ahsoka bit down on her lip. Would she be at Mandalore for just a day? If Satine _was_ alive, then she might have to stay for two, three days at the very least. She could keep working remotely, of course, but she also didn’t know how bad Mandalore was. The last time she’d been there, the main infrastructure had been a mess. The rebuilding efforts would take a few weeks, and the state of the people—

But at the same time, Ahsoka had the unsettling feeling she didn’t have much of a choice. She _did_ need to go to Mandalore eventually, as she would have to go to all the other worlds which offered their services to the Clone Wars veterans. So really, did it matter that she was going to go to Mandalore first?

Ahsoka felt Rex’s presence before he knocked on the door. Still, she spun around quickly, schooling her expression into one of complete nonchalance as he walked inside.

“I already had breakfast,” Ahsoka said as Rex dropped a paper bag on the table. She managed a smile. “Bet you didn’t see that coming.”

“Already had breakfast?” Rex repeated, sounding indeed surprised. “That’s a first.” He left the paper bag on the table. “Still leaving that, though.”

“Thanks,” Ahsoka said. “But really—it’s fine.” She cleared her throat, straightening herself against the desk. It was either now or never. And then Ahsoka would probably return to the Skywalker-Amidala residence, hopefully to find out if Obi-Wan was going to be coming to Mandalore, after all. Or maybe she should go check on a ship first—

“Everything alright?” Rex asked.

Ahsoka blinked. _Now or never._

“I got a message last night,” Ahsoka said, folding her arms over her chest. “From Bo-Katan.” She cleared her throat. “She’s willing to open Mandalore up for the troopers.”

“Well, that’s good,” Rex said. His brow furrowing, he added, “But not right away, I’m assuming?”

“No,” Ahsoka replied. “Not right away.” She cleared her throat again. “But there was something else.” Rex sat down at a chair across from Ahsoka, a silent signal for her to go ahead. Ahsoka was glad that he had sat down. “Duchess Satine Kryze is alive.”

A wrinkle appeared between Rex’s eyebrows. “The duchess?” he asked uncertainly at first, but then recognition slowly dawned on his face. “ _Her_? But didn’t she—”

“I know,” Ahsoka said, pushing out a sigh. “She _should_ be dead. Or, at least, according to Obi-Wan, she _was_ dead.”

Rex was quiet. Then, after a moment, he asked, “Did Bo-Katan tell you this herself?”

“Not quite,” Ahsoka replied, dropping her arms to her sides. “Satine was there in the message. In the background, her voice quiet, but definitley there. I had to get rid of the background noise and turn up the volume to clean up the recording.” She pushed herself off the desk, pacing the small office. “Things are going to get complicated from here on out,” she said wearily. “It would be great— _really great_ —if Mandalore could be opened up for the clone troopers, but Mandalore’s not the most stable world at the moment. And if Duchess Kryze is alive—”

“Wouldn’t the Mandalorians be happy that she’s alive?” Rex asked, standing up. “Last I checked, her people seemed to like her.”

“They did,” Ahsoka said, pausing in her step. “But that was also when things at Mandalore were relatively peaceful. And she _tried_ to keep it that way, even with the mess of Death Watch and the corruption in her court.” She looked at Rex. “But right now, things on Mandalore have to be fragile. And if the rest of the galaxy finds out that Satine’s alive and helping the clone troopers, especially after her tirade _against_ war—”

“But she’s a pacifist,” Rex pointed out. “People could think that she’s just doing what pacifists _do_.”

“ _We_ might think that,” Ahsoka replied, “but politicians will twist _anything_.” She set her hands behind her back. “That, added with the fact that there’s already some opposition to the work we’re doing, and then the fact that Satine might be alive— _how_ is she alive?” She looked up at Rex, her heart sinking. “There’s going to be questions about that.”

“And you’re trying to answer those questions yourself,” Rex said.

“Someone has to,” Ahsoka replied grimly. “If at least some of Satine’s friends know the truth, then there’s a chance we could ease the transition of Mandalore into this new system.” She met Rex’s eyes. “So that’s why I’m leaving for Mandalore. Just for a few days.”

“By yourself?” Rex asked.

“Well, Obi-Wan might come,” Ahsoka said halfheartedly. “But that’s only if he manages to convince the Council.” _Or if the Council convinces him._

“And if he doesn’t come?”

Ahsoka crossed her arms. “I can handle myself,” she said.

“I know you can,” Rex replied. “But _someone’s_ got to watch your back.”

“Rex—”

“Look,” Rex said, reaching for the data pad that Ahsoka had been holding just a few minutes ago. “We don’t have as many meetings for the next few days. We can transfer whatever in-person meetings we have to over hologram. And,” he added as Ahsoka opened her mouth, “you said it yourself—we’ll just be there for a few days.” He nodded towards the door. “And if _you_ think you’ll be there for a little longer than a few days, just give me the word, and I’ll come back here to hold down the fort.”

Ahsoka closed her mouth. She stared at Rex, eyes narrowing, lips pressed tightly together. Rex looked back down at her, silently daring.

At long last, Ahsoka let out a breath. “Fine,” she said, and the beginnings of a smile started twitching at Rex’s lips. “But if you’re coming with me, then _you’re_ finding the ship.”

“Consider it done.”

\--

So Ahsoka found herself back at the Skywalker-Amidala residence, sitting at the edge of the couch as she watched Luke and Leia bounce up and down in the little swing at the center of the living room. She smiled at the twins, waving at them as they beamed up at her. They loved that little swing—just one of the many things both Anakin and Padmé had either built or bought over the last few months.

“When do you plan on leaving for Mandalore?” Padmé asked, sitting down next to Ahsoka.

“Hopefully in a few hours,” Ahsoka replied. “Rex found a ship, and I told him that we’ll wait until the Council meeting finishes.” She turned to the chronometer, which announced that they hadn’t yet reached noon. “Hopefully, they’ll be out soon.”

“They will,” Padmé said. Then, with a small smile, she added, “At least, if they don’t, I wouldn’t be surprised if Anakin just barged in there himself.”

Ahsoka started laughing a little at that—because she _could_ very well see Anakin crashing into the Council chambers, but then she remembered the tense looks between Anakin and Obi-Wan during the whole of last night. And though she knew that they _had_ been talking about Satine’s possible recovery, she had had the strange feeling that there had been something else between the two. Something else that neither of them were willing to discuss, at least not then, and most definitley not in front of everyone else. There had also been the fact that Obi-Wan had already been at the apartment when Ahsoka came last night.

“Is there something going on between Anakin and Obi-Wan?” Ahsoka asked at last.

Padmé paused. She looked at Ahsoka, and then, after a moment, she sighed. “There have been…discussions,” she said. When Ahsoka remained waiting, Padmé turned to the twins.

“Apparently,” she said slowly, “the Council has been discussing what exactly to do with Anakin given the recent light of…events. And Obi-Wan knew. Only he’s kept that secret.” She cast Ahsoka a sidelong glance. “You can probably see where this is going.”

“Oh,” Ahsoka said quietly. Her chest suddenly tightened as guilt needled its way into her. She had her fair share of exasperations with Obi-Wan—but he _had_ seemed wearier as of late. Not just yesterday, but even before then, back at the weekend dinner, and back even before then. Now that Ahsoka truly thought of it, she wasn’t sure when she had seen Obi-Wan actually look well-rested even since the end of the war.

And if Obi-Wan was trying to keep matters of the Council away from Anakin—

Ahsoka winced. She distinctly remembered other occasions when the matters of the Council had come in between Obi-Wan and Anakin: a certain Naboo night, a certain angry shout from Anakin, pointed fingers, and Ahsoka remembered looking up from the ship to find Obi-Wan (only not quite Obi-Wan at that time) with his head bowed as Anakin had stormed off.

And then, of course there were other times: only that other time had been much sharper in Ahsoka’s memory. A memory of sharp words from the Council, her silka braids being snapped away from her head, Obi-Wan’s pained expression as he turned away from both Anakin and herself.

“Well,” Ahsoka said slowly, “the Council doesn’t exactly have a good track record in dealing with sensitive topics.”

Padmé’s eyes were sad when Ahsoka looked at her. “I know,” Padmé said. “This must seem strange for you.”

“Not really,” Ahsoka replied, although she wasn’t sure if she really meant that. “The Council is…complicated. And they’re not always right.” That had been something Obi-Wan had said himself, back at Mandalore. Guilt needled at Ahsoka again.

“So what do you think they’re going to do with Anakin?” Padmé asked quietly.

Ahsoka pressed her lips together. She wasn’t sure how to answer to that, especially with Padmé watching her so intently.

“There’s the Jedi Code,” Ahsoka said at last. “And the Jedi are bound to that.”

Padmé’s shoulders sank, and Ahsoka had the feeling that Padmé already knew that was going to be the response. Still, the senator managed a small smile at Ahsoka and said, “But you aren’t. Or not yet.”

Ahsoka stilled, and Padmé’s smile gentled as she reached over for Ahsoka’s hand. “You didn’t think that I wouldn’t catch your response to Anakin last night, did you?” she asked quietly.

“What do you mean?” Ahsoka asked.

“When Anakin mentioned that you might be going to Mandalore as a keeper of the peace,” Padmé said. “You said _not yet_.” Her dark eyes were trained on Ahsoka with the kind of strange intensity that made Ahsoka realize exactly how the senator had been able to win over so many verbal sparring matches. “What did you mean by that?”

Ahsoka looked down at their hands. “I don’t know,” she said slowly. “It’s…complicated.” _Complicated_ was an understatement. She looked back up at Padmé. There was sheer understanding in the senator’s—no, not just a senator, Ahsoka’s _friend_ ’s—eyes. Ahsoka swallowed. “I met some people. Before coming to Mandalore. When I was alone.”

“And?”

“And they were fine,” Ahsoka replied. “Good people. Sisters.” She dropped her eyes from Padmé. “But they’ve had their own experiences with the Jedi—experiences that didn’t exactly fill them with the kind of hope Jedi are supposed to instill.” She lifted her shoulders. “And I thought I fit right in with that. I haven’t exactly been too hopeful of the Jedi either.” She managed a weak smile at Padmé, though she didn’t smile back. “And yet, at the end of it all…” Her voice drifted. “The sisters told me that I _acted_ like a Jedi. Or, at least…” She gave Padmé a sheepish look. “How they might want the Jedi to act. And that got me thinking.”

Ahsoka waited for Padmé to interrupt her, but when no response came, she continued, “I don’t think the Council’s perfect. But at the same time…” Her voice drifted. “If there’s at least one Jedi who can provide that hope for people, then don’t I have a duty to be that provider?” She bit down on her lip. “I’m not saying I’m perfect,” she said quickly. “But maybe if I could _do_ something to get people to trust the Jedi again…” She lifted her eyes at Padmé. “The Jedi at least deserve that trust, don’t they?”

Padmé smiled. “I think they do,” she said quietly.

Ahsoka managed a smile back, albeit a weak one. “I still don’t know for sure though,” she said, dropping her eyes down to their hands. “There’s so much going on already.”

“You’re thinking of a big decision,” Padmé replied gently. “I think you deserve some time to think things through.” She squeezed Ahsoka’s hands and then, after a pause, she added delicately, “And I’m assuming you want to keep this quiet?”

“Yes please,” Ahsoka replied, relieved. “Just for now.”

“My lips are sealed,” Padmé promised.

Ahsoka grinned. Jedi or not, she knew she wasn’t going to stop visiting Padmé.

As though sensing the sudden brightness in the room, the twins let out a soft coo. Ahsoka and Padmé both turned, and then both of them were standing up, sharp cries leaving their mouths as Luke and Leia both levitated small toys around them.

“Oh my—”

Ahsoka gripped Padmé’s arm, her grin widening. “Looks like Anakin and you will be having some more on your hands,” she said.

Before Padmé could respond, the door suddenly slid open, and both Ahsoka and she whirled around to find Anakin and Obi-Wan walking into the apartment. Ahsoka noticed the slight hunch in both Anakin and Obi-Wan’s shoulders first, and she felt the faintest hint of dread— _what happened?_ —but before she could say anything, Padmé was whisper-shouting, “Anakin! You need to see this!”

“What—” Anakin only shot Ahsoka a quizzical look as Padmé yanked Anakin into the living room.

“Obi-Wan, you too!”

It was Obi-Wan’s turn to look at Ahsoka, but then Padmé was dragging Obi-Wan along too, and then Ahsoka heard Anakin’s shout of—surprise, pride, _glee_ , followed by Obi-Wan’s quiet gasp.

“Look at them!” Anakin said. “They’re— _they’re doing it!_ ”

Ahsoka turned around to find Anakin scooping Luke and Leia up in his arms, his eyes bright and dancing with excitement. “I knew it,” he said, rubbing his nose against Leia’s. “You two are going to create all _kinds_ of chaos, yes you two _are_.” He looked at Ahsoka and Obi-Wan, beaming.

Ahsoka beamed back, but she noticed that Obi-Wan’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

\--

A few hours later, Ahsoka was sitting in the pilot’s seat of the small ship Rex had somehow managed to wrangle out of the yard. Rex was standing at the back of the ship, ending a call with a trooper. And right next to Ahsoka, Obi-Wan was staring out the viewport, his hands resting on the console.

Ahsoka wasn’t entirely sure what had happened during the Council meeting, and Obi-Wan hadn’t shared any information besides the fact that the Council had decided that he would indeed be going to Mandalore to check on the situation—which had been a surprise in itself, but again, Obi-Wan didn’t share anything otherwise.

So now, Ahsoka glanced over at Obi-Wan. He hadn’t said much during the duration of the trip, and Ahsoka hadn’t been sure what to say herself.

She hadn’t known too much about Obi-Wan’s relationship with Satine—just enough that Obi-Wan had meant something to Satine, and Satine clearly still meant something to Obi-Wan. Anakin had once mentioned off-handedly about some mission that Obi-Wan had gone on to Mandalore when he was still a Padawan—that was how Satine and Obi-Wan must have met. The rest was blurry for Ahsoka, but she still remembered the pain in Obi-Wan’s eyes when Bo-Katan had mentioned the duchess. She hadn’t seen that pain before.

“We have a long ways ahead of us,” Ahsoka said at last, taking grasp of the controls. “Rex and I’ve got things under control here.” She nodded a little at Obi-Wan. “You should get some rest.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Ahsoka let her eyes drift back to the viewport. If Anakin were here, he probably would have dragged Obi-Wan out of his seat. But Anakin was back on Coruscant with Padmé and the children—the children who had just proved to be Force-sensitive. And at just a mere five months, too.

She was excited for the twins: they were sure to be powerful Force wielders, just like Anakin, but Ahsoka also couldn’t get that odd look from Obi-Wan out of her head. And given what Padmé had told her about Obi-Wan and the Council, Ahsoka had the bad feeling there were some more implications to the children’s Force sensitivity than Obi-Wan was letting on.

Ahsoka snuck another sidelong glance at Obi-Wan. His eyes were still fixed on the viewport, both seeing and not quite seeing the blue lights outside.

Eyes still not moving, Obi-Wan repeated, “I am fine, Ahsoka.”

Ahsoka snapped her eyes back to the viewport. She kept her hands around the controls, even though she knew there really wasn’t any need to. The ship was piloting itself at this point, but Ahsoka needed her hands wrapped around _something_ , just to keep herself busy in the tense silence between them.

Then, when Ahsoka couldn’t take the silence any longer, she said, “I’m sorry.”

Another beat of silence. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Ahsoka shifted in her seat. “I’m still sorry,” she mumbled. She looked at Obi-Wan. “Things haven’t exactly been…the same between us, have they?”

This time, Obi-Wan returned the sad smile Ahsoka gave him. “I suppose they haven’t,” he replied. “But such happens in these kinds of times.”

Things change.

“I know,” Ahsoka replied. Then, taking a deep breath, she added, “But—” She braced herself for the next few words, braced herself for the awkwardness about to come in the next few seconds. But she had to get the words out, and she knew she had to get her words out, otherwise Mandalore would just feel strange if she hadn’t. “I want to let you know that you have my support.”

She paused. “Not that you need it. And not on _everything_. I won’t support you if you decide to do something off the rails, which you _wouldn’t_ , but—” She stopped herself at Obi-Wan’s amused look.

“What I’m _trying_ to say is,” Ahsoka said, exasperated, “is that even though things are different, we’re still…friends.” She added that last part quieter than the rest.

But Obi-Wan heard her. Ahsoka knew he heard her because he smiled a different kind of smile: not a sad one, to Ahsoka’s relief. A gentle, familiar (albeit tentative) one that warmed Ahsoka inside out.

“Thank you, Ahsoka.”

“You’re welcome, Master Kenobi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm ready for some grandmaster and grandpadawan bonding too. 
> 
> As always, comments/kudos/subscriptions are greatly appreciated!


	9. Chapter 9

Obi-Wan woke up to the dull rattle of the ship landing. He bolted up, and for a disorienting second, he couldn’t remember where he was—but then the doors behind him opened, and Ahsoka and Rex came out of the cockpit.

“Good, you’re awake,” Ahsoka said, walking through the ship. “We’re here.” She stopped by the exit, her hand hovering over the ramp. She looked over her shoulder at Rex and Obi-Wan.

A strange silence settled over them all, and then, bracing on a smile, Ahsoka said, “Here goes nothing.” And with a slam of her hand, the grey Mandalore light filtered into the ship.

They all took a step back, eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness of the day as the ramp sank lower and lower, allowing more and more light to seep into the ship. But once the ramp had fully lowered, Obi-Wan could make out more clearly the platform the ship rested on and, what was more, the ruins and debris that still lay around it.

“I guess they’re still cleaning up,” Ahsoka murmured, taking notice of the same ruins. But throwing her shoulders back, she started down the ramp. Rex and Obi-Wan only exchanged wary looks before following her down.

Obi-Wan had to once again adjust his eyes to the sight before him as he stepped onto the landing platform. There was what appeared to be parts of the glass walls and structures littering the landing platform, and when Obi-Wan looked up, he found more buildings in partial ruin, parts of bridges torn and covered. The back of his neck prickled. There was something unsettling about this place, even with the most obvious threats gone. Obi-Wan could feel multiple pairs of eyes on this landing platform, but when he looked, there was no one there. And judging by the mild anxiety radiating off of Ahsoka, Obi-Wan knew that the young girl could sense the discomfort as well.

“Ahsoka,” a voice said, and Obi-Wan snapped his eyes to find Bo-Katan Kryze walking towards them, her helmet under her arm. Obi-Wan noticed right away the shadows under Bo-Katan’s eyes, the quick rhythm in her step, but something else: the slightest twinge of a smile on Bo-Katan’s lips spoke volumes, especially once she clasped Ahsoka’s hand. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Likewise,” Ahsoka replied, and though she was turned away, Obi-Wan could tell the young girl was smiling. And despite the victory on Mandalore, Obi-Wan still found the image of Ahsoka and Bo-Katan a strange and somewhat jarring one, especially once Bo-Katan’s jarring green eyes lifted past Ahsoka.

“Commander,” Bo-Katan said, nodding to Rex. And then her eyes drifted to Obi-Wan. “General.”

Obi-Wan managed a small nod back. Pressing her lips together, Bo-Katan turned back to Ahsoka. For a moment, Obi-Wan thought Bo-Katan was going to protest—tell them all to turn back, especially when Bo-Katan looked at him again. That was a hard, long look that Obi-Wan began to wonder was just a trademark for all Kryzes.

But then Bo-Katan let out a short breath. “I’m glad you’ve come,” she said to Ahsoka. She flicked her eyes at Rex and Obi-Wan. “We have much to discuss.”

Ahsoka relaxed. “That’s great,” she said. “We’ve been meaning to—”

“Not here,” Bo-Katan said quickly, shooting a wayward glance past the landing platform—and confirming Obi-Wan’s suspicions. There was still something that lurked on this planet. “Please,” Bo-Katan added after a moment of hesitation. “Let’s discuss things in a more…comfortable area.”

No one needed to say anything before Bo-Katan was already turning around, leading them to a transport. “So,” Bo-Katan started over her shoulder, her voice remaining casual, “how are things back on Coruscant? I’ve only been partially keeping up with the news.”

“Oh, you know,” Ahsoka replied, her voice just as light, just as casual. “Busy.”

“I’m sure,” Bo-Katan said, seating herself in the front seat of the transport. Ahsoka piled in first, then Rex, and then Obi-Wan. Over the rumble of the transport, Bo-Katan added, “But from what I’ve gathered, things seem to be going smoothly.”

Obi-Wan thought of the discussions in the Council chambers. _Smoothly_ wasn’t exactly how he would describe the recent turn of events. The Council meeting regarding Mandalore alone had been disorientating. But Obi-Wan shoved that away.

Looking at Ahsoka, Obi-Wan knew that she was contemplating different matters, though perhaps with the same exasperation that Obi-Wan felt. Still, Ahsoka only shrugged—a diplomatic gesture which Obi-Wan could hardly imagine Anakin ever impressing upon her.

“Perhaps _smoothly_ compared to the events of the past,” Ahsoka said now. “But we’re learning how to navigate new challenges.”

“Aren’t we all,” Bo-Katan said with a short laugh, though it sounded strange and empty amongst them.

Obi-Wan found himself once again looking up at the passing buildings and bridges. There were still civilians walking around, he noticed. There were a few cheerful faces: Obi-Wan spotted a young couple strolling down a bridge, a family pushing along their children over a fallen hunk of metal. But still, despite their quiet laughter and chatter, Obi-Wan still took notice of how quickly they moved, as though they were all hurrying to go home.

Following his gaze, Rex swiveled his head back too. Then, eyes narrowing, Rex gestured upwards. Obi-Wan followed Rex’s hand up to a rooftop. Obi-Wan just registered a flash of red armor before shouting, “Everyone, _down!_ ”

“What—”

But then there was a great blast that knocked the transport spinning, spinning, spinning out of control, and Obi-Wan lurched forward, just barely catching himself before he could crash into Ahsoka. He heard sharp cries from above him, and when he lifted his head, he found that the blur of civilians on the bridge had scattered. But then Obi-Wan couldn’t see them anymore—not past the smoke that trailed up from the tail end of the transport.

 _Not good_.

The thought had just barely stopped forming in Obi-Wan’s mind before the transport plunged down, and then they were all being ripped from their seats. Obi-Wan heard Rex’s shout from behind him and instinctively reached out to grab his arm, and with his other hand, Obi-Wan latched his grip around the back of Ahsoka’s seat.

Ahsoka, too, was gripping the edge of the controls, her legs and arms flying behind her as the transport plummeted. “The engines are shot!” Ahsoka shouted over the din of the wind and the sputtering transport. “We’re going to have to land this thing!”

Bo-Katan, struggling to keep her hold on the controls, shouted back, “You mean _crash_?”

“ _Crash landing!_ ” Ahsoka hollered. “Master Kenobi, can you—”

“There!” Rex shouted suddenly, and though Obi-Wan couldn’t turn around, he knew what Rex must be looking at—because there, dead in front of them, was the landing platform to the palace. Obi-Wan could make out men and women in Mandalorian armor already scrambling around the platform, jetpacks firing.

“Obi-Wan!” Ahsoka cried over the wind. “Are you able to—”

“Yes!” Obi-Wan shouted back, and he tugged Rex forward, just enough for Rex to grasp the back of Bo-Katan’s seat. He heard Rex swear as they came closer and closer to the platform. They were coming _awfully_ close, and some of the men and women were starting to jet towards them: trying to get them out, Obi-Wan realized. But they needed to land the transport, otherwise there would be much more damage.

And then, extending one shaking hand, Obi-Wan called on the Force. He saw Ahsoka do the same, felt the sudden warmth of the Force coil around them both, and then there was a loud groan from somewhere deep within the transport as they tried to slow their fall. He heard Bo-Katan say something, but her words were far away, drowned out by the deep, steady pulse of the Force.

Obi-Wan felt a bead of sweat travel down the back of his neck, saw Ahsoka’s hand trembling as they came closer, closer. There were men and women hovering around them in their jet packs now, and through gritted teeth, Obi-Wan said, “Rex, Bo-Katan— _go._ ”

“General—”

“Now!” Ahsoka said, her voice just as strained.

Obi-Wan felt the wind of the Mandalorians sweeping Rex and Bo-Katan out of the transport, and then it was just Ahsoka and himself, straining for the transport to slow down its descent. Obi-Wan felt the wind lessen, though not by much. He felt a bead of sweat trickle down the back of his neck. Ahsoka let out a small sound, one that sounded a mix between a grunt and a gasp as the transport slowed just a bit more—

They were so close—

Obi-Wan saw Rex and Bo-Katan being landed at the back of the landing platform, safely tucked away. _Good._

Obi-Wan closed his eyes. He heard the roar of blood in his ears, the roar of blood in Ahsoka’s veins. They both took a deep breath—and _pushed._

And then they were toppling forward as the transport grinded to a stop on the landing platform. Obi-Wan steadied himself, grabbing Ahsoka’s shoulder back before she could fall over the front of the transport. She was cold underneath his hand, and he suspected he wasn’t much warmer, but when Ahsoka turned around to him, she was smiling, her eyes bright with relief.

There were cheers, Obi-Wan recognized a moment later. Cheers coming from Bo-Katan’s men and women, as well as cheers from the buildings beyond. But Obi-Wan didn’t feel the same need to celebrate, not as Ahsoka and he clambered out of the transport.

“I’m assuming _that_ was why you didn’t want to talk before?” were Obi-Wan’s first words once Bo-Katan and Rex reached them.

“Correct,” Bo-Katan replied grimly. She took a step back for Ahsoka and Obi-Wan to clear away from the transport, which was still smoking. “Gar Saxon escaped from our hold once Maul was taken away.” She gestured towards where the attack had come from. “Ever since, he’s been restless. Trying to undermine what little stability we have left.”

Obi-Wan turned towards the building. A few of Bo-Katan’s men and women were hovering around the area, still jet-packed, but judging by the lack of shouting or gunfire, their attacker was nowhere to be found. Obi-Wan frowned, his eyes falling back down to the transport. He walked around to the back, where smoke still drifted from the engines.

“What are you thinking?” Ahsoka asked, coming around on the other side.

They both stared down at the traces of the blast: the shattered material, the raw tear through the engine. “This wasn’t done by a blaster,” Obi-Wan said at last. He looked up at Bo-Katan, who was hovering near the front of the transport. “If Gar Saxon escaped, he would need weapons.” He gestured to the transport. “But these marks don’t seem of the typical kind.”

“We’ve noticed,” Bo-Katan replied wearily. She leaned against the front of the transport, arms crossed over her chest. “We don’t think he’s carrying blasters or grenades.”

“So these incidents have happened before,” Rex said, walking around to the back of the transport. He crouched down by the marks, keeping his face a safe distance away from the smoke. “Looks like something was thrown with brute force, if you asked me.”

Obi-Wan frowned, looking again to where their attacker had come from. “But from that distance…”

“We have some ideas of what could have created that damage,” Bo-Katan said, causing everyone to turn back to her. She cleared her throat. “But that’s something we really _should_ discuss inside now.” She gestured into the palace behind her, her eyes flicking once more to the buildings around them. “Before anyone else gets any more ideas.”

\--

Obi-Wan had steeled himself in preparation for the throne room, but still, something ached in his chest once they got inside the palace. He noticed the windows completely shattered open, only a few hasty cloths blocking the wind. His eyes moved onto the light fixtures, which had either cracked or been burned through by what could have only been lightsabers. Boxes and crates of what could only be supplies and weapons rested on opposite ends of the long room, and the occasional armored man or woman would go to one of the boxes to look for something.

Obi-Wan’s eyes found the throne last. His heart sank.

The glass above the throne was shattered, revealing a jagged hole and two lines that looked suspiciously like the ends of a dual lightsaber.

“Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan focused on Ahsoka and Rex who were standing a little ways in front of him, waiting. Bo-Katan was already at the holoprojector in the center of the throne room, but he noticed that she, too, was watching him warily. But then, catching him seeing her, Bo-Katan quickly turned back to the holoprojector. Ahsoka and Rex still waited, though, their faces wearing identical expressions of— _ah, concern._

“Apologies,” he said quickly. He surveyed the room casually, but the way Ahsoka and Rex’s eyes lingered on him told him that they weren’t convinced of the gesture. Obi-Wan walked forward, keeping his voice level as he added, “There have been several changes since the last time I was here.”

“We’re still working on repairs,” Bo-Katan said, nodding at the fluttering cloths over the broken windows. “But it’s going to take time.”

“Clearly,” Ahsoka said, casting the throne room a long look.

“Which brings us to why we are here,” Obi-Wan said.

Bo-Katan swung her gaze to him as though she were seeing him for the first time. Slowly, her eyes drifted from Obi-Wan and back to Ahsoka. “So,” she said at last. “I’m assuming you got my message.”

Obi-Wan’s chest tightened as Ahsoka nodded. “I— _we_ ,” she said, looking over to Obi-Wan, “got _all_ of your message.” The emphasis was not missed.

Bo-Katan paused. Obi-Wan became painfully aware of the other men and women still in the throne room, still bustling around as though there was nothing changing at all. Obi-Wan briefly wondered if _they_ knew too. He couldn’t imagine the rest of Mandalore knowing, not with the stakes being as high as they were—but—

Bo-Katan cleared her throat. “It’s been a while since you’ve all been here,” she said at last. “Perhaps a tour?” After waiting for a single nod, Bo-Katan turned from the holoprojector. She nodded at one of the men stationed near the back entrance to the throne room—to the main corridors of the palace.

They were silent as they trailed after Bo-Katan. Obi-Wan could feel the blood pounding in his ears with each step he took. He looked to the ripped and broken light fixtures on the walls, the suspicious burn marks of lightsabers and blaster fire. He noticed the scuffs of boots against the ground, the faint traces of blood splatter not quite cleaned out of the rugs.

They passed by a few men and women still clad in Mandalorian armor. A few of them had their helmets off, and they only nodded to Bo-Katan, maybe to Ahsoka and Rex if they recognized them. But everyone seemed busy doing something else.

Gradually, the amount of people in the hallway lessened. They were winding deeper and deeper into the palace, to hallways and corners that Obi-Wan either hadn’t visited himself or hadn’t remembered visiting. But Bo-Katan’s pace remained steady, her shoulders thrown back and chin lifted.

Finally, long after they reached the empty hallways, Bo-Katan said, “You must understand that I wasn’t sure who to turn to during these times. You’ve seen the people—seen _my_ people. Gar Saxon isn’t the only one who’s restless.” She came to a sudden stop in what looked like the middle of the hallway. But no—Obi-Wan could _feel_ something from beyond the hallway. From the bristle in Ahsoka’s posture, he knew that she could feel it too.

Bo-Katan turned around. “I didn’t know who else to turn to,” she said quietly. “But if there’s anyone…” Her voice drifted, and for the first time since that day—and for the first time _ever_ , Obi-Wan realized—the woman looked uncertain. “Stay quiet,” was all Bo-Katan said, and then she pressed her hand against the wall.

A gentle hissing sound filled the air, and then the dim hallway was slivered through with light. Obi-Wan heard birds chirping, water running. A breeze hummed through the air, rustling the branches of a tree. That same breeze drifted into the rest of the hallway, lifting the hem of Obi-Wan’s tunic.

And then Bo-Katan was stepping aside, gesturing inside—no, _outside_ —

But neither Ahsoka nor Rex moved. It was Ahsoka who looked at Obi-Wan. Her voice was soft as she said, “You should go in first.”

Obi-Wan’s mouth went dry. _No_ , he wanted to say. Bo-Katan had sent the message to Ahsoka— _she_ was the one who should be going outside first, but Ahsoka remained steady, still.

 _Go_ , she seemed to say.

So Obi-Wan faced the entrance—the exit—and walked through.

\--

He saw her crouched near the edge of a pool. She was dressed plainly, a simple blue dress with its hem just barely hovering above her ankles. One hand was dipped in the water, the other resting on her lap. A strand of her sunshine-colored hair had slipped from her ear. And when she reached up to brush the strand back, she turned—

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure what happened after that. All he knew was that he was stumbling forward, one foot in front of the other—one foot in front of the other—one foot in front of the other—

And then she was rising, one hand clutched around a long cane. She had been pierced right through the back, Obi-Wan remembered dully. But her eyes—blue, clear, so brilliant and _clear_ —were wide, alert, and she barely made it up before Obi-Wan was stopping directly in front of her, hands shaking— _his hands were shaking_ —as he reached out for her face—

And when he touched her face, and when she reached up for his hand, Obi-Wan knew that she was alive. He let out a short, strangled sound: something between a cry or a gasp, he wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t quite remember how to breathe then, not when she was _here_.

And then she lifted her hand too, and Obi-Wan felt her touch against his face, and something inside of him cracked.

It wasn’t until Satine brushed her thumb under Obi-Wan’s eye did he realize numbly that _ah, those were tears._

“Hello, my dear,” Satine said quietly. “It’s been too long.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments/kudos/subscriptions are greatly appreciated!


	10. Chapter 10

Ahsoka hadn’t been sure how Obi-Wan would react, but now, listening to his ragged breaths even from the doorway, she understood why he hadn’t said anything for so long. She could see his trembling shoulders, and though his face was turned away, Ahsoka could make out the genuine pain and—something else, some deeper emotion that Ahsoka couldn’t name, not right now—on Satine’s face. Ahsoka felt like she was looking into something too private, too intimate, but at the same time, she couldn’t look away, not when she, too, was seeing the very present, very alive Satine Kryze standing but a few yards away from herself.

She looked healthy. Blonde locks spilling over her shoulders, face—although pained—flush with the spirit that Ahsoka remembered from her own time spent on Mandalore. Ahsoka saw Satine’s hand lift up to brush at Obi-Wan’s face, ad Ahsoka again felt like she was intruding on something.

Ahsoka forced her eyes away from Satine and Obi-Wan— _privacy_ —and to Bo-Katan. “How…”

“That’s something we’ll discuss,” Bo-Katan said, her brows furrowed. She managed a somewhat apologetic smile at Ahsoka. “Just one on top of the growing list of things we need to discuss.”

“Well, we _did_ come to answer your call,” Ahsoka replied, managing a smile of her own. But still, she turned to Rex, feeling a familiar guilt creep in as she fixed her eyes on his steady ones. “But this _might_ be a little more than we bargained for. If you—”

“With all due respect,” Rex said, “we’ve only been here for less than an hour.” Ahsoka tried to ignore the small relief that bloomed in her chest as Rex added, “That’s hardly enough time to estimate exactly _how_ much we’re dealing with.”

“Trust me,” Bo-Katan said, her voice quieter. “You’ll be getting plenty.” She jerked her chin towards the courtyard—or what Ahsoka could only describe as a courtyard. It seemed much smaller than the rest of the royal courtyards, just enough room for maybe a small party to be held. “Starting with this.”

“Right,” Ahsoka murmured, swinging her gaze back to Satine and Obi-Wan. A part of her still wanted to linger in the doorway, or better yet, scoot back down the hallway because— _well_ , again, she felt that same need to give them some time away. She hadn’t minded so much whenever Anakin and Padmé got close to one another in front of her. Then again, she had suspected the whole time what _they_ were up to, so really, seeing the kissing and the hand-holding and the affectionate looks had been something Ahsoka had taken in a stride.

But with Obi-Wan—

There was something intensely vulnerable, Ahsoka decided, about seeing Obi-Wan press his hand against Satine’s cheek.

“Maybe we should…” Ahsoka was about to suggest that they back away, maybe really give Obi-Wan and Satine some time—because she imagined they had _much_ to discuss, but then Satine lifted her eyes over Obi-Wan’s shoulder. Ahsoka wasn’t sure what to do, not when Satine suddenly smiled—a gentle, kind smile that made Ahsoka suddenly feel like she was a fifteen year old Padawan again.

And then Obi-Wan turned around too, blinking quickly and face tight, but otherwise present. Ahsoka felt a small kick of sympathy. She would have really liked to have spared them another minute, but no, Bo-Katan was already speaking.

“I imagine you all have questions,” Bo-Katan said.

There was a dead silence at that, and then Ahsoka offered, “Just a few.” She flitted her eyes back to Satine, bowing slightly. “It’s good to see you, Duchess.” The words felt strange in Ahsoka’s mouth, as though she had just seen Satine after a few weeks rather than a few years. As though Satine really hadn’t _died_.

“And it’s good to see you too, Ahsoka,” Satine replied, and when Ahsoka lifted her eyes, she found Satine still smiling. Ahsoka managed a small smile back. Satine’s eyes traveled over to Rex, and still smiling, she said, “Commander Rex. My sister told me of your promotion. Congratulations.”

Rex dipped his head. “Thank you, Duchess,” he said. Ahsoka could feel his uncertainty too, the slight awe and also bewilderment that tangled into everyone else’s jumbled thoughts. But when Ahsoka looked at Rex, his face remained passive—save for the slight flicker in his dark eyes, which flicker which told Ahsoka for certain that he, too, was giving the situation a wary, silent survey.

Ahsoka was suddenly very, very glad that he came.

“So,” Ahsoka said, turning to Bo-Katan. “Is this when we’re going to get some answers?” She looked at Satine. “It _is_ good to see you, Duchess—”

“No,” Satine replied. “I would have questions as well. After all,” she added dryly, “it is not quite every day that one is raised from the dead.”

There was an awkward silence as the words sank in.

And then Rex said with a straight face, “Well, actually, one of my men turned out to be alive when we thought he was dead. So maybe a little more common nowadays.”

Ahsoka couldn’t keep her lips from twitching, and she was relieved that Satine, too, seemed amused enough by the comment. But Bo-Katan and Obi-Wan remained still, silent. Which forced Ahsoka to clear her throat again. _Right_.

“So how _did_ this happen?” Ahsoka asked. “And—”

“When?” Obi-Wan’s voice was quiet. When Ahsoka looked at him, she found steady eyes, but there was something simmering underneath, something that Ahsoka couldn’t pinpoint—at least, not before Obi-Wan shot her a warning look. Ahsoka knew that look, as well as the sudden feeling of being shunted out by the already-fortified shields that divided Obi-Wan from herself.

But Ahsoka didn’t need to get through Obi-Wan’s shields to read the tension in the small courtyard. Not with Satine suddenly looking at Obi-Wan too, her expression forlorn. Ahsoka once more felt like she was intruding on something, especially when Obi-Wan met Satine’s gaze. They locked eyes for a moment—just for a few moments, and then they were both looking away, eyes searching anywhere except for the others’.

Honestly, watching that little dance was painful. Ahsoka briefly wondered if they had been like this when Obi-Wan and Anakin escorted Satine to Coruscant the first time around.

Bo-Katan cleared her throat. “A few weeks now,” she said at last. She gave Ahsoka a meaningful look. “A little after the siege. We were cleaning up parts of the city—and I was going through some of the older parts of this place.” She gestured to the courtyard, the palace walls. She dropped her arm back down to her side, and giving Ahsoka yet another meaningful look, she said, “Turns out that there’s some more interesting things that we’ve found over the last few months or so.”

“Define interesting,” Obi-Wan said. Again, his voice was quiet. Again, Ahsoka noticed Satine looking over at him. Again, Ahsoka noticed Obi-Wan looking at Satine. And frustratingly, again, Ahsoka noticed them both looking away as though they had been burned.

Bo-Katan, to her credit, didn’t falter at the intensity between everyone. “Interesting as in you Jedi folk probably would throw a riot.”

“We _Jedi folk_ don’t riot.”

“Maybe not,” Bo-Katan said, her lips curling into a dry smile. “But you certainly won’t be pleased.”

Ahsoka looked between Bo-Katan and Obi-Wan, and then she looked to Satine and lastly Rex. He lifted his eyebrows at her, and she copied the movement. Still, as Ahsoka swung her gaze back around to Bo-Katan, her mind was already running through the potentials of what might come in the next few moments. _Jedi folk won’t be pleased_ —well, there was the darksaber. Ahsoka knew that much, learned that the darksaber had been stolen from the Temple years and years ago. And then there was that strange cell that had kept Maul (and presumably other Force wielders) miserably trapped.

Looking at Bo-Katan, Ahsoka wondered just exactly what other secrets Mandalore had to offer, given its bloody history with the Jedi.

She supposed that should worry her.

Obi-Wan was clearly thinking the same thing when he said, “That doesn’t sound too promising.”

Bo-Katan made a sound that might have been a scoff or a sigh. “Don’t worry,” she said. “You’ll get it back.”

“ _It?_ ” Ahsoka and Obi-Wan asked in unison.

\--

The _it_ in question was something that required everyone to head back into the rest of the palace. And walk through several more hallways. And descend several flights of stairs. Not even a lift—but stairs only. Stairs that were coated by a thin layer of dust, interrupted only by the prints of a few pairs of feet. Ahsoka walked in front with Bo-Katan, Rex directly behind. And farther behind, Satine, and then Obi-Wan taking the rear.

They were quiet as they descended the steps. Too quiet, the only sounds being their steps and the slight click of Satine’s cane. Every once in a while, Ahsoka found herself glancing back at them, just to find that although they were walking beside each other, they weren’t looking at one another. Or, at least, every time Ahsoka looked at them, they seemed to be looking away.

Once, Ahsoka caught Obi-Wan’s eye. She lifted an eyebrow once in his direction, but he subtly shook his head, dismissing the half-formed questions in her mind.

Ahsoka pressed her lips together. _If you say so_ , she thought, but when she turned around, she could feel that tension between all of them. Ahsoka wondered again exactly how Anakin must have dealt with this ridiculous dance back when Obi-Wan and he were escorting Satine to Coruscant.

Then again, Ahsoka supposed this was a very different situation. A different situation that involved someone being suddenly brought back to life and apparently an _it_ that led them deeper still under the palace.

“Where are we?” Ahsoka asked at last, coughing around the dust in the air.

“Catacombs,” Bo-Katan replied. She turned around partially to Ahsoka, the dim light of her flashlight making her green eyes glow. “These were built centuries ago.”

Ahsoka’s eyes traveled around the walls, the ceiling. Or what should have been a ceiling. Ahsoka found only rock, and when she brushed her fingers against the top, her fingers came away bone-dry. Wherever they were, the tunnels had to be _very_ old. She rubbed the dust and dirt from her fingers, and looking back up at Bo-Katan, Ahsoka asked, “What did Mandalore need these catacombs for?”

Bo-Katan gave Ahsoka a crooked smile. “Mandalore’s had a bloody past,” she replied, swinging back around to the front. “Take a guess.”

Ahsoka supposed that answered _that_.

They walked deeper into the catacombs. The stairs gave way to solid ground, and even without Bo-Katan’s light, Ahsoka could feel the space widening, heightening. She came to a stop next to Bo-Katan as they surveyed a series of tunnel entrances, all of them dimly glowing with the blue rock that made up so much of Mandalore’s architecture.

And though there could have been no way for the air to tunnel down here, Ahsoka felt a breeze pass by her shoulders. She shivered, but when she looked at Bo-Katan and Rex, she found that they hadn’t sensed anything. She turned back around to Obi-Wan, whose frown was all she needed to know that he felt it too.

“The Force,” Ahsoka said quietly. “There’s something…here.” She frowned at Bo-Katan. “Something ancient.”

“I _did_ tell you that these catacombs have been here for centuries, haven’t I?” Bo-Katan asked. She gestured down one of the tunnels leading out of the space. She walked forward, and Ahsoka only shot Obi-Wan another questioning look before they followed.

The tunnel became gradually narrower, narrow enough for everyone to start walking in single file. Ahsoka kept her eyes on the back of Bo-Katan’s head, but her mind was already floating, reaching elsewhere. With each step she took, the warm pulse of the Force seemed to respond to her: beckoning, calling, waiting.

And though Ahsoka didn’t turn to look at Obi-Wan, she knew that he could feel the same call. That same eerie, ancient whisper that tugged their steps forward. Ahsoka had the feeling that even if Bo-Katan hadn’t been leading them, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka would have been able to navigate their way to whatever was calling them.

But still, they kept pace with Bo-Katan.

“Centuries ago,” Bo-Katan said at last, her voice ripping apart the tense silence, “House Vizsla took back the Darksaber from the Jedi Temple.” She squared her shoulders. “That had been the main goal of the operation. But of course, there were still…other things that caught their eyes.”

Ahsoka’s blood ran cold. “You mean to tell me that—”

Bo-Katan looked at Ahsoka. “Most of which have either been lost or returned to the Jedi,” she said evenly. “Which you can credit to my sister.”

Ahsoka still remembered that awful coffin-like thing that had kept Maul trapped inside. She knew that there had to have been more of those, all of which the duchess must have destroyed over her reign. Ahsoka wasn’t entirely surprised that Satine would have returned whatever artifacts she had collected either, but still—

The fact that Mandalore had them to begin with left a sour taste in her mouth.

“It’s not a particularly happy history,” Bo-Katan said, as though reading Ahsoka’s mind.

“History rarely is,” Obi-Wan said. His first words since coming down the catacombs.

Bo-Katan turned around, her green eyes surveying those behind her. “Yes,” she said after a beat. “I suppose so.” She turned back to the front. “We’re almost there,” she said at last.

Ahsoka knew that, but she chose not to say so as Bo-Katan’s steps quickened. The tunnel became wider, the light’s radius becoming less significant as a sudden space opened before them. Ahsoka walked around Bo-Katan’s side, the others fanning out behind her.

This was a large space—much larger than the one earlier in the catacombs, much larger than even the throne room of the palace above them. Bo-Katan’s light was only a small circle that lit up where they stood.

But even without the light, Ahsoka could see the distant gleam of something at what she could have only assumed was the center of the space. A warm, blue gleam that seemed to pulse in response to its sudden audience.

“That’s…” Ahsoka turned on her lightsabers, lighting up the rest of the cavernous space.

And it _was_ a cavern. A cavern with erected pillars and dull tiles making up the ground. Ahsoka’s breath caught as she lifted her sabers higher, their blue glow illuminating the faintest shine of color on those pillars.

The distant buzz in the background told Ahsoka that Obi-Wan had activated his saber as well, its blue glow joining Ahsoka’s to brighten the rest of the cavern.

The gleam at the back of the cavern shone brighter, and Ahsoka had the strange feeling that it had nothing to do with the fact that Ahsoka and Obi-Wan had turned on their sabers. Ahsoka felt something pull tight and taut between that object and herself—Obi-Wan and herself.

“A crystal,” Obi-Wan said at last.

Ahsoka’s fingers stiffened around the hilts of her sabers as she took a few steps closer. The crystal was _definitley_ gleaming now, the Force singing as its recognized children came closer and closer to it. All the while, Ahsoka racked her brain for things she had read during her time at the Temple. Crystals—she knew of the kyber crystals that had made her sabers, the healing crystals. Those were familiar enough. But this—

Ancient.

Ahsoka wasn’t aware that they had closed the distance between the crystal and themselves until she was standing directly before it. She didn’t need the light of her lightsabers anymore: the crystal’s light was bright enough to overtake at least half the cavern.

She turned to Obi-Wan. “Do you know what this is?”

“It resembles a healing crystal,” Obi-Wan replied, his face glowing with the blue gleam of the crystal. He too had turned off his lightsaber.

Ahsoka stared. “But healing crystals don’t bring people back to life,” she said.

“No,” Obi-Wan murmured. “They don’t.”

They both turned around to the others.

Satine spoke first.

“I wasn’t aware of this artifact down here,” Satine said, her voice slow and steady, barely echoing around the cavern. “But I understand this is a…” She flicked her eyes to the crystal. “Dangerous power to have.” She lifted her chin. “Do what you must with it. Take it back to the Temple, destroy it—whatever you wish.”

Ahsoka saw Rex’s eyes flick to the crystal. When they met each other’s gazes, Ahsoka knew that he had to be wondering the exact extent of the crystal’s powers: there had to be so many of his brothers, Ahsoka knew with a pang in her chest, that Rex was wondering could be brought back. Too many.

So much loss and hurt in this war—and if one crystal could bring everyone back—

But not just loss on their side. Ahsoka thought of Palpatine’s skewered body. Grievous. Dooku. Ahsoka’s blood chilled at the thought of this power getting in the wrong hands. If the Mandalorians had managed to steal this from the Temple before, then who was to say that this crystal couldn’t be stolen again?

Still, looking at Satine, Ahsoka couldn’t help but wonder herself. There were people she had lost too. Friends who she had fought beside, all taken too soon. If she could bring them back, would she? Or would she be depriving those friends of hers of a peace that they longed for?

“Who did this?” Obi-Wan asked. His words were still, quiet in the cavern. “Only the Force-sensitive are able to use crystals, healing or otherwise.”

Although it shouldn’t have been possible, the silence suddenly became tenser, high-strung.

Ahsoka managed to speak first. “Bo-Katan—”

“It wasn’t Maul, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Bo-Katan said. “We found this _after_ you left.”

She wasn’t lying. That much Ahsoka could tell. A small part of Ahsoka relaxed—but only a small part.

“Then who?” Ahsoka asked. She looked between the Kryze sisters. “A Jedi?” She highly doubted that much, and Bo-Katan’s shake of the head confirmed that.

“Not one of yours,” Bo-Katan said. “But…” Her voice drifted, and then her jaw tightened. “We can’t reveal that person’s identity.”

“Why not?” Ahsoka asked, folding her arms over her chest.

Bo-Katan met Ahsoka’s gaze. “Those are private matters.”

Ahsoka pressed her lips together in silent argument, but Bo-Katan didn’t back down. Ahsoka at least had to credit her to that much. Bo-Katan was stubborn—they were _both_ stubborn, but there was something else in Bo-Katan’s green gaze. A strange, fierce protectiveness that made Ahsoka wonder exactly who it was that she was protecting.

Who both the Kryze sisters were protecting.

“This person is not an enemy,” Satine said at last. Her hand was clutched tightly around the head of her cane, her knuckles white against the glow of the crystal. “That much you can rest assured. You have my word.”

Ahsoka glanced at Obi-Wan, but he was watching Satine. Something flickered across his face—and Ahsoka knew one didn’t have to be Force-sensitive to catch that glimpse of disbelief and pain that tightened Obi-Wan’s features.

“We can’t keep that thing here,” Bo-Katan said at last. “It doesn’t belong on Mandalore.”

Ahsoka turned her eyes to Bo-Katan. She looked tired, all the strength seeped out from her from this trip down the catacombs. “This is a rare power,” Ahsoka said slowly. “You could have just kept this hidden from the rest of the galaxy.”

Bo-Katan smiled grimly. “I know,” she said. She looked at Ahsoka, then to Obi-Wan, then to Rex. “Believe me when I say that I wasn’t aware of this artifact, nor was I aware that it would actually _work_. This was…” She flicked her eyes to Satine, who looked away. “A surprise to all of us.”

But Ahsoka heard the words lying underneath Bo-Katan’s own: _an accident._

Something that wasn’t meant to happen. Something that shouldn’t have happened and yet did.

That was something to think about.

“Well,” Ahsoka said, swallowing around the dry air of the cavern. “It’s happened now.”

\--

Ahsoka felt strange carrying the crystal in her pocket. She had offered it first to Obi-Wan, but he had shook his head, claiming that it might be safer with her. Ahsoka hadn’t argued, and she had tucked it into the folds of her clothes before they all returned back up to the palace.

Bo-Katan had showed Ahsoka to her room—rooms, really—for her stay. Ahsoka appreciated that Bo-Katan had thought to give Rex and Obi-Wan rooms in the same hallway, but still, even despite the fact that their doors were all within a few steps of each other, Ahsoka still felt the space too great between them.

But then again, remembering the look on Obi-Wan’s face as they had exited the catacombs, Ahsoka couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps he was grateful for the space.

Now, Ahsoka settled the crystal on the nightstand by the bed. She looked down at the pulsing blue crystal for a moment, at the innocent way it gleamed back up at her. She wanted to take a shower—a long, hot shower to scrub all the dust and dirt off her, but it felt wrong to just leave the crystal out on the nightstand.

She picked up the crystal and took it with her into the refresher. She let the crystal sit on the sink as she stepped into the shower. But even then, something about the crystal unnerved her. Ahsoka washed away the dirt and grime the best she could and, after dressing herself, she tucked the crystal once more into a pocket. It instantly warmed right through to her skin, but not unpleasantly.

Still. It felt strange.

Today had been a strange day.

Exhausted, Ahsoka slumped into bed and slept.

\--

Only Ahsoka’s nap was short-lived, because in another hour, someone was knocking at her door—Rex, who was reporting that dinner was ready and that Bo-Katan wasn’t in the mood for wait any longer than she had to. So Ahsoka managed to dress herself, the crystal still pressed against her side, and then Rex and she were walking down to a private dining room in an older part of the palace.

Ahsoka found Obi-Wan already there, but judging by the pallor his face, he hadn’t gotten much rest either. Still, he gave Ahsoka a wary smile before Rex and she sat down.

“I have to say,” Ahsoka said, turning to Bo-Katan, “I didn’t think you’d be one to host dinners.”

“I’m not,” Bo-Katan replied. “Consider it a present for the first night.” She gave Ahsoka a crooked smile, one that she only halfheartedly returned.

The dinner was simple enough, which Ahsoka was at least a little more grateful for. She doubted she would have felt comfortable eating anything too elaborate with the state of affairs outside of the palace, although even the food wasn’t much a distraction of the otherwise strange atmosphere of the dining room.

Ahsoka flicked her eyes around the room. No lieutenants, no guards, nothing. They were completely alone. Obi-Wan sat directly across from her, cutting his food into smaller and smaller portions. But Ahsoka noticed that still too much food remained on his plate.

Then, sensing Ahsoka’s gaze, Obi-Wan looked up and pointedly chewed down on a piece of food.

Somewhat satisfied—although not entirely—Ahsoka glanced to the other end of the table: to Satine, who sat directly at Obi-Wan’s side. She, too, ate quietly.

The silence was killing Ahsoka.

“So,” Ahsoka said at last. “How are other things coming along on Mandalore? The construction, we saw on our way to the palace, but…”

Bo-Katan’s eyes shuttered briefly. “Things are…coming along,” she said. She glanced at Ahsoka. “I already told you that we’re still figuring out where Saxon’s hiding out. Judging by what weapons his men and he have used, he’s probably low on funds. Or using whatever he could find. It’ll be a long time before Mandalore can actually open its doors for any off-worlders.” She sounded sorry at that.

“We always knew Mandalore would need some time,” Ahsoka said understandingly. She glanced at Rex. “And besides, Rex and I have facilitated plenty of conversations with other worlds. We’ll be fine for a little while yet.” She meant that as a cheerful note, but Bo-Katan’s expression remained troubled.

“How long has Saxon been attacking?” Rex asked after a few minutes.

There was a shift in the air at that question. Ahsoka saw the quick look that Bo-Katan and Satine exchanged, and then it was Satine who said, “Just for a few weeks now. They’ve been going on before I…” Her voice drifted briefly.

Ahsoka nodded quickly. “Of course,” she said. “Do you think that…” She hesitated. “Does Gar Saxon know of your presence, Duchess?”

“Not that I know of,” Satine replied. She glanced around the table. “As you can see, my presence has been kept rather private.”

“Not even some of my own lieutenants know of Satine,” Bo-Katan said, turning to Ahsoka. “And I trust them all with my life.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Ahsoka said. She paused. “But do you—” She turned to Satine instead. “Do you plan to reveal yourself soon, Duchess?”

Another silence.

“I would like to,” Satine said softly. “I would like to very much.” She gripped the handle of her utensil tightly. “I have been pressing to, in fact, for quite some time now.” She flicked her gaze over to Obi-Wan, and this time, he looked at her too. Ahsoka saw something pass between them: the air practically shivered with their looks, but then Satine was looking back at Ahsoka, adding quietly, “But I’m afraid such has been difficult to pursue with Saxon’s presence.”

“You’re afraid that if you reveal yourself, Saxon might aggravate his attacks?” Ahsoka asked.

Satine’s face was pained. “I will not bear to see my people further harassed,” she said. “Not after the pain that they’ve already endured.” She looked to Bo-Katan. “I would like to see to Gar Saxon myself—find out where he’s hiding, but my _sister_ —”

“You can’t,” Bo-Katan said sharply. “You’re still recovering.”

Satine’s eyes hardened. “My sister believes me incapable of defending myself,” she said flatly.

“I never said you were _incapable_ —”

“Ah, yes. Your words were—”

“You’re just going to put words in my mouth.”

“Only because you _insisted that I_ —”

Ahsoka was almost glad when one of Bo-Katan’s lieutenants burst into the dining room.

Almost.

“What is it?” Bo-Katan asked, standing up.

The lieutenant only whispered something in Bo-Katan’s ear, and as she left, Bo-Katan’s face turned triumphant.

“What is it?” Ahsoka asked warily.

Bo-Katan looked at Ahsoka. “Perfect timing,” was all she said. “Some of my spies have detected Saxon’s location, after all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not exactly the most familiar with Force lore, but I hope you guys didn't find that totally insufferable. I promise things will all become neatly tied up/more relevant later!
> 
> As always, reviews/follows/faves are greatly appreciated!


	11. Chapter 11

For perhaps the millionth time ever, Anakin was glad that Padmé was his wife. Because he was sure that there would have been no one else who would tolerate his constant cooing and playing with the kids starting at the crack of dawn. But of course Padmé tolerated it, and of course she joined in, albeit with a somewhat bemused smile.

“Okay, guys,” Anakin said now, stretched across the rug. He propped himself up on his elbows, lifting a hand towards the little ball sitting between himself and the twins. “You two know what to do, right?” With a slow gesture, he passed the ball through the air to Leia’s already outstretched hands.

But Luke snatched it out of the air first, a wide smile spreading across his face as he dragged the ball down to his lap.

“Not quite,” Anakin said, but he couldn’t help his own matching smile. “Close, though.” He pushed himself back against the rug, moving a little farther away. “Come on,” he crooned. “Pass it back.”

But Luke only clutched the ball in his little hands, giggling as Leia suddenly reached forward, her own hands scrambling for the ball. Luke dropped back, the ball slipping out of his hands. He let out an indignant cry, but then Padmé leaned forward and sat him back up.

“Play nice, Leia,” Padmé chided, reaching over for the forgotten ball. She set it between Luke and Leia and looked up at Anakin, a sly smile on her face. “I wonder where she got that temper from.”

“What are you talking about?” Anakin asked innocently. He sat up, feeling his face split into another grin as this time, the ball wobbled up into the air. Leia almost seemed to be smiling smugly as the ball floated back to Anakin.

A small thrill went through Anakin as he passed the ball back, this time Luke being the one to stop it in the air. Luke’s little face scrunched in concentration, and then he sent it floating back. Anakin plucked the ball out of the air, his heart hammering with pride and love—so much love—as Luke and Leia bounced a little, impatiently waiting for Anakin to pass the ball back.

And then Anakin looked at Padmé, whose dark eyes were glimmering with the same energy that Anakin knew were probably in his own.

Anakin grinned and looked back down at Luke and Leia. “The galaxy has no idea what’s waiting for them,” he said cheerfully, scooping them both up in his arms. He sat up and setting them on his lap, he added, “Just wait until you guys can actually _walk_ —and then _fly_ —”

“Slow down, Ani,” Padmé laughed, slipping down to Anakin’s side. She brushed her lips against his cheek, then down to Leia and Luke’s heads. “They’ve still got some time to go before either of them get to flying.”

“I know, I know,” Anakin said, but he still whispered conspiratorially to the twins, “but you two will be flying as soon as you’re old enough.”

Padmé huffed out a small sound that might have been a laugh or a sigh. But she squeezed Anakin’s hand, which he knew was her way of telling him that she wasn’t about to argue against the flying part.

Anakin squeezed her hand back.

Padmé glanced at the chronometer then. “I think Obi-Wan and Ahsoka would have reached Mandalore by now,” she said. She looked back at Anakin. “Do you think we’ll hear anything from them?”

“If I know Obi-Wan…” Anakin started, but he found he couldn’t quite bring himself to finish that sentence. He thought about Obi-Wan’s stricken face after coming out of the Council chambers. The slight tremble in Obi-Wan’s voice.

He wasn’t sure what Obi-Wan would do. If there would be a call.

Padmé’s eyes lowered. And then, with a quiet sigh, she reached for Anakin’s hand again. “On second thought,” she said, “they might just be a little busy. They’ll tell us whatever they need to once they have the time.”

Anakin managed a nod. “Right,” he said, but he saw that weary look on Obi-Wan’s face again. He hadn’t been there to watch Obi-Wan and Ahsoka and Rex leave Coruscant—but he had watched Obi-Wan follow Ahsoka out of the apartment, head held high and shoulders squared, but his steps heavy.

“Right,” Anakin repeated. Then, squeezing Padmé’s hand, he braced a quick smile. “We shouldn’t just stay in here all day,” he said. “Fresh air’s great for the kids. Up we go!” He tugged Padmé up to her feet, eliciting a bright burst of laughter.

“ _Ani_ —”

“Up we go!” Anakin repeated, spinning her around. He heard Luke and Leia’s laughter bubbling up from beneath them, and then he was guiding Padmé back into his arms, laughing along as they rocked backwards a half-step. He looked down at Padmé, who only rolled her eyes and tilted her head back to brush her lips against his before she was swooping back down to pick up Leia.

Anakin mirrored her movements and picked up Luke. He brought Luke up to his shoulder and turned to his son, whose little head was already swiveling around to get a better look at the new height. “You’re _definitley_ going to become a pilot,” Anakin said, and kissing Luke on the side of his head, he walked to the balcony, Padmé beside him.

The sky was still a pale blue, but the first flares of an orange and pink sunset were beginning to light the edges of the horizon. The sun’s rays gleamed from behind the nearby skyscrapers, but Anakin didn’t mind the slight glare. He stopped a little ways from the balcony, turning Luke around in his arms so his child could see the other skyscrapers, the line of speeders far below.

“We’ll have to officially start you with speeders first,” Anakin said to Luke and Leia. “But _unofficially_ , I can make you two some hovers that can work similarly. Isn’t that exciting? It’ll be baby-proof too, mostly.”

“You mean _entirely_ ,” Padmé said, waving one of Leia’s little hands down to the speeders.

“Entirely,” Anakin corrected. “Helmets and goggles and everything.” He looked seriously down at Luke and Leia. “I’ll have the blueprints ready by the end of the week, got it? I’m working on a strict deadline here.”

Leia only patted Anakin’s face.

“That’s right,” Anakin said solemnly. “I better get to it.”

“And how many projects would that be?” Padmé asked, the sunset lighting up her dark eyes. She tilted her head to the side, pretending to be lost in thought s she said, “There were the cribs, and then the mobiles, and then all those toys…” She adjusted Leia in her arms and added, “At this point, you might as well just open up a shop.”

“What are you talking about?” Anakin asked innocently. “It’s just a bit of tinkering.”

Padmé rolled her eyes. “ _Tinkering_ is what you do when you fix the lights,” she said. “What _you’ve_ been actually doing is something else.”

“Well, I’ve got to keep busy somehow, don’t I?” Anakin asked, propping Luke up on his shoulder. He turned Luke towards the speeders below again, adding, “Right, Luke? Can’t get bored out of my mind anytime soon.” He had kept his voice light, but when he looked at Padmé, he found that a thoughtful look had crossed his wife’s face. “What?”

“I wasn’t just joking around,” Padmé said. “You like building things. You’re brilliant with machines—better than anyone else I know.”

“Well, how many people do you know who actually know how to work with machines?” Anakin asked.

“I’m being serious,” Padmé said. Her voice softened as she reached over, took Anakin’s arm. “I know that things have been difficult with the Council and the Order, and I know that you wanted to go with Obi-Wan and Ahsoka and Rex to Mandalore.” Her voice faltered at the end, and Anakin stilled as she briefly looked away.

“Padmé…”

“You miss it sometimes,” Padmé said softly. “I know you do.” A corner of her lips twitched into a sad smile. “You love the adrenaline, Anakin. I would be a fool if I didn’t know that by now.”

Anakin became aware of Luke’s warm breath, the quiet babble in his ear. A breeze swept by, brushing Padmé’s curls away from her face. Leia stuck her head up from Padmé’s arms, those sharp dark eyes of her—Padmé’s eyes—surveying the city.

“And I love you,” Anakin said, wrapping an arm around Padmé’s shoulders. He looked down at Padmé and smiled. “ _Hey_. I love you. I love our family.”

Padmé lifted her eyes to meet his. “I know,” she said after some time. “I know you do, Ani, but sometimes I wonder if—”

“But nothing—”

“But _sometimes_ ,” Padmé said, “I wonder if this is really enough.” That falter came again, and Anakin stared at Padmé, aghast. She looked away, one hand absently stroking Leia’s cheek. “I’m still a senator,” she said. “But you, Anakin—” She took in a shuddery breath, exhaled. “The Jedi is your _life_. And if you had to choose…which you really _might_ have to—”

“Stop.” Anakin’s head spun. “Where is this coming from? Why would you—” He lifted his hand to brush back Padmé’s curls. “Why are you talking about that now?”

Padmé’s face twisted. “I don’t know,” she said. “But I have a feeling things are going to start changing soon.”

Anakin’s chest tightened. “I won’t let it,” he said, and he brought his hand around to tilt Padmé’s face towards him. Padmé lifted her chin, her gaze unfaltering as he brought his forehead against hers. “I won’t,” he repeated.

“You don’t know that,” Padmé whispered. “Anakin, if you have to make the choice—”

“I’d choose you,” Anakin said fiercely. “I’d choose our family. I’d choose _this_.” He lifted his head briefly, just enough to meet Padmé’s gaze again. “Over and over again, I would choose this. Okay?”

Anakin saw the bob of Padmé’s throat as she swallowed. “Hey,” he whispered, dipping his forehead against hers. “We’re going to be fine.”

Padmé pressed her lips together. Anakin could tell she wanted to say something more, probably push, but then she sighed. She tilted her head back to look at him, those dark eyes of hers tracing Anakin’s face. And then Anakin leaned down to meet her lips, and he noticed just the slightest tremble in her form as they pulled away.

“Come on,” Anakin said at last, tugging Padmé to his side. “Let’s go back in.”

\--

“What are you thinking about?” Anakin whispered in the darkness. He felt around for Padmé’s hand under the covers. Their fingers twined around each other, and Anakin dragged Padmé’s hand up to his chest. He turned his head to the side to find Padmé rolling over to him.

“Hm,” Padmé hummed, curling her head against Anakin’s shoulder. “Right now?”

“Yes, right now,” Anakin murmured, holding up their hands. He ran a thumb over Padmé’s palm, brought it to his lips. “I want to know what you’re thinking about.”

“Right now, I’m thinking that we need to get some sleep,” Padmé replied. “Especially since I have to be ready tomorrow morning.”

“That’s boring.”

“Is that so?” Padmé asked lightly. Even in the darkness, Anakin could see her smile. He was sure he could see that smile even blind. “Tell me, then—what are _you_ thinking about?”

Anakin brought his arm around Padmé’s side, smiling at the way she relaxed right into him. “Right now,” he whispered, “I’m thinking about ways to distract you from tomorrow morning.”

“Of course you are.” Padmé pushed herself up, brushing her lips against Anakin’s cheek. “Good night,” she added meaningfully.

Anakin only grinned. “Good night,” he replied, and Padmé settled back against his side, head still resting on his shoulder. He kept his arm still wrapped around her side, and he had only closed his eyes when the sound of the holoprojector went off.

Padmé stirred beside him, but Anakin set a hand on her shoulder. “It’s fine,” he said. “I’ll get it. Who knows,” he added, “maybe it’s Ahsoka calling with some good news.” As he pushed off the bed and reached for his tunic, Padmé propped herself up on her elbows.

“Well, if it’s good news,” she said, swinging her legs around the bed.

“Didn’t you just say that you have an early morning tomorrow?” Anakin asked lightly, pulling his tunic over his head.

“I’ll sleep better if we get an update from Ahsoka and the others,” Padmé replied. She made her way over to Anakin.

“As you wish, my lady,” Anakin said, shooting her a grin. They stood up and made their way to the holoprojector. Anakin answered the call, and where he had expected to find Ahsoka or Rex or Obi-Wan, he found himself staring at Master Windu.

For a moment, neither spoke. Anakin was partly relieved that Padmé was at his side then, even though he could feel her surprise. And he could feel Windu’s wariness, too, even through the hologram. But Anakin figured one didn’t have to be Force-sensitive to see the slight discomfort in the master’s face.

“Master,” Anakin finally said. “I didn’t expect a call from you at this hour.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Windu replied. He folded his arms over his chest. “But I bring a warning.”

Anakin’s heart sank. “A warning?” he asked. “About what? Did you get word from—”

“Your children.”

Anakin’s blood ran cold. He tightened his fingers around Padmé’s hand. “What about them?” he only asked.

“You need to be careful, Skywalker,” was all Windu said. “There are people who are still suspicious of the senator and your relationship.” He tilted his head towards Padmé, who gave a faint nod in return. Anakin felt her squeeze his hand again as Windu directed his gaze back up at him.

“Suspicious how?” Anakin asked at last.

“Suspicious enough to publish images of your children,” Windu replied, and in another flash, his form was replaced with holoimages of—

Anakin’s breath caught in his throat. Padmé made a small sound as they beheld the only slightly blurry image of Padmé and himself, their foreheads touching against each other with Luke and Leia in their arms. Another image, this one of Anakin holding Luke over his shoulder as they looked down at the speeders. Leia on Padmé’s shoulder. And then, lastly, the image of Anakin on his stomach, floating toys over to Luke and Leia, Padmé curled up on the side.

“How did—” Padmé’s voice was hushed. “Earlier today—”

Anakin stared at the images. Those had been _private_ moments. Moments only for Padmé and himself—their _family_ to be a part of. The images taken from where Padmé and he had been on the balcony, he could easily figure how taking those images had been possible, but the one of himself and Padmé playing with the children—

Windu’s form reappeared, and for the first time since Anakin had ever known the man, the Jedi master looked a little sorry. “Prepare yourselves,” was all the master said now. “I understand, Senator Amidala, that you are to be in session tomorrow.”

“Yes,” Padmé replied quietly. “We were going to vote on the removal of the troops.”

“I advise caution,” Windu said. “These images have undoubtedly reached the hands of your…less friendly colleagues. They’ve been found all over the HoloNet.”

Padmé nodded again. “Thank you, Master Jedi,” she said.

Anakin squeezed her hand tightly. “Thank you,” he managed, and Windu only nodded. But before he could end the call, Anakin asked, “Has the rest of the Council seen the images?”

Windu paused. Then, he said, “The Jedi Council is aware of your children’s capabilities, if that is what you are asking.”

Anakin’s chest tightened. “Well?”

Windu only pressed his lips together. “I know you may think otherwise, Skywalker,” he said, “but the Council makes its decisions carefully.”

 _Do you now_ , Anakin thought, but as though sensing his thoughts, Padmé wound her other arm around his in silent warning. When Anakin glanced down at her, he could almost hear her words: _don’t. He just helped us._

Anakin looked back at Windu. “Thank you for alerting us,” he only said.

Windu nodded again. “Good night,” he said. “Good luck.”

And with that, the call ended.

It was a long time before either of them spoke.

And then Padmé whispered, horrified, “There were pictures of us in our _own home_ —”

“I know,” Anakin replied. “I…” He looked down at Padmé. “I’ll fix this,” he said. “I promise. Tomorrow morning, all those pictures will be gone. Wiped from the HoloNet.”

Padmé shook her head. “You heard Master Windu. People have already seen them.”

“And they won’t see them again,” Anakin said fiercely. He turned Padmé toward himself. “I’ll _fix_ this,” he said. “I’ll find whatever sleemo took those pictures of our family. I’ll make sure no one ever does something like this again.”

Padmé furrowed her brows. And then, resting her forehead against Anakin’s chest, she murmured, “Everything is about to change, Ani. The quiet we’ve had—it’s all about to change again.”

 _I won’t let it,_ Anakin thought as he wrapped his arms around Padmé’s shoulders.

He wouldn’t.

\--

Long after Padmé had fallen asleep, Anakin found himself going through the HoloNet. Windu had been correct—the images were almost everywhere, blown up on every single veritable news source and online forum. He crashed the sites with a few tapped lines of code, and just for good measure, he replaced the images of his family with an image of a blurry one of a loth cat instead. He would have smiled at that if he hadn’t felt so sick to the stomach.

Anakin’s eyes were burning by the time he set the datapad down on the night stand, and his head pounded with exhaustion, but he couldn’t go to sleep. He rolled over on his side towards Padmé. She had written out a few messages herself, emailing most of the news sources to take down the images based on some privacy laws that Anakin himself didn’t know about. He wondered if Obi-Wan would have known about those laws himself—he would have, he definitely would have—and then Anakin wondered what Obi-Wan would say if he called him for advice now. But Obi-Wan was probably busy on Mandalore, as was everyone else. They had their own problems.

Those sources at least had removed the images and the headlines before Anakin could crash into the site, and they had responded fairly quickly, too, but Padmé hadn’t gone to sleep easily.

Anakin hated them all for that.

He brushed back a curl that had fallen in Padmé’s face, letting his hand linger on the side of her face.

He would fix this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, we'll see what Ahsoka and Obi-Wan and Rex are up to on Mandalore-but we needed to take a quick glimpse of what the heck was going on in the Skywalker household too.
> 
> As always, comments/kudos/subscriptions are greatly appreciated!


	12. Chapter 12

There was a silence after Bo-Katan made her declaration.

Perhaps it was because of the many twists and turns of the day, or perhaps it was something else, but Obi-Wan didn’t process the words until Ahsoka spoke first.

“Where?” she asked now.

“A nearby moon,” Bo-Katan replied. “That device used to take our transport off course?” Her lips curled into a sly smirk. “Something that used to be for mining. According to my people, any machine of that kind must have been used to clear away rubble.”

A moon. Mining.

“Concordia,” Obi-Wan heard himself say. Everyone’s eyes swung around to him, including those of the one next to him. “Satine and I went there once,” he explained at Ahsoka and Bo-Katan’s lifted brows. “Some time ago.”

“Vizsla had kept the mines operational,” Satine said slowly. “As an operating base for the Death Watch.”

“It would make sense why Saxon would go back there, then,” Ahsoka said, pushing away her plate. “If Vizsla was based there, then there might have still been some resources or intel for some opposition to be built.” She turned her bright eyes to Obi-Wan and Satine. “Would you two remember the rough coordinates of the mines?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan and Satine replied in unison.

Too late, Obi-Wan found himself looking at Satine. Their eyes met only briefly before they were both looking away, and Obi-Wan found himself only looking up to find Ahsoka and Rex watching him instead. He braced on what he knew was a neutral expression—one that he had practiced wearing countless of times before, but still, Ahsoka tilted her head slightly at him, a silent question on her face. Rex, if possible, was a little more subtle, with only a gaze held perhaps a moment longer than usual.

He had been quiet for too long.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan repeated. He added, “I don’t think one could easily forget almost being crushed to bits.”

“You almost got _what_ —”

“And I filed the location away after Obi-Wan and I returned to Mandalore that time,” Satine said before Ahsoka could finish asking.

“Saxon was gambling on the hopes that you wouldn’t bother searching that place again,” Rex mused.

“Well,” Bo-Katan said, pushing herself out of her seat, “he gambled wrong.”

“And where do you think _you’re_ going?” Ahsoka asked, standing up.

Bo-Katan smirked. “Where do you think?”

Satine stood up. “I’m more familiar with Concordia,” she said firmly, wrapping her fingers around the top of her cane. “And you’ll need someone to guide you to the mines.”

“I was under the impression I would only need one navigator,” Bo-Katan said, her eyes settling on Obi-Wan. She tilted her head at him. “That is, if he was willing.”

Before Obi-Wan could respond— _this wasn’t what he was supposed to be here for_ —Satine cut in.

“I know the moon better,” Satine pointed out, not looking at Obi-Wan. “I’ve been there multiple times, and Obi-Wan has been there but once.”

As Bo-Katan opened her mouth, Ahsoka interrupted, “So the two of you will go.” She ignored the look that both Obi-Wan and Satine threw her way. “Extra navigation skills, along with extra firepower.” She paused. “That means me, by the way.”

Rex cleared his throat.

“Us,” Ahsoka corrected. “That means us.”

Gratitude flickered across Bo-Katan’s face. After a moment, she said, “I suppose this is more than you bargained for. Isn’t it?” At the last part, she turned herself towards Obi-Wan, but there was nothing malicious in her face or in her voice.

 _Yes_ , Obi-Wan thought. This day didn’t seem to end. He briefly wondered what the grand finale would bring. Knowing his luck, there would be one, and he had learned long ago to anticipate it as he imagined one would for a tiring relative. Familiar, although not always welcomed.

 _Check on the status of Mandalore_ , the Council had told Obi-Wan. _But stay out of the politics._

Obi-Wan had the feeling he might be violating one of those orders.

He had been quiet for too long again. He realized that Bo-Katan—and not just Bo-Katan—was waiting for an answer.

Obi-Wan tried for a smile. “Only slightly,” he replied, pushing himself to his feet.

“Good,” Bo-Katan said. “We’re leaving now.”

And then she walked out of the room, and then Rex, and then Ahsoka, though she still shot Obi-Wan a strange look before leaving.

And then it was just Obi-Wan and Satine.

Obi-Wan gestured towards the door. “After you, Duchess,” he said.

“Thank you, Master Jedi,” Satine replied quietly. She took a few steps forward, and only when she reached the doorway did Obi-Wan allow himself to walk a few steps after her. He kept his pace even, controlled, even though a part of him ached to move forward, close some of that distance.

But this was not the time or place. He needed— _they_ needed to keep some semblance of—not normalcy, for this could never be considered normal, not by any means—but some semblance of order intact. For if they did not—

Obi-Wan found himself looking down at the head of the cane that Satine’s pale fingers were wrapped around. A few weeks, that was what Bo-Katan had said. Satine had been alive for weeks.

He knew why she would keep quiet. He knew the duties behind war and peace and politics, and he knew that Satine had to have paid for her temporary silence in more ways than she would probably tell him right now. They both had their parts to play, and Mandalore was a fragile world at the moment. Of course she had to stay quiet.

Satine slowed her steps. “What is it?” she asked.

Obi-Wan lifted his eyes from Satine’s hand just as she turned around, her face slightly tilted back to look up at him despite the fact that they were still paces apart.

“How are you?” Obi-Wan asked at last. He realized how strange the question sounded a moment later, and he would have been embarrassed by it had Satine not started to smile.

A gentle smile at that, too, one that reminded Obi-Wan of different times.

“I am quite well,” Satine said, readjusting her grip on her cane. “And how are you?”

“I am…also quite well,” Obi-Wan replied, ignoring the otherwise noisy thoughts flitting about his head.

“I am glad,” Satine said, dipping her head a little. She lifted her eyes back up to him and, after a moment of hesitation, she added, “We should…” She gestured behind herself, not needing to say more.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan agreed. “Quite right. We wouldn’t want to keep the others waiting.”

“Quite right,” Satine echoed.

Neither of them moved.

“Duchess.”

“Master Jedi.”

Satine turned around and resumed her walk back down the hallway in the direction of Bo-Katan and the others.

Obi-Wan waited for her to take a few more steps before tilting his head back and letting out the quietest of sighs. For a strange moment, he wished Anakin had been on Mandalore after all. He could easily imagine his friend laughing at him now. He would be better at lightening the mood. But then Obi-Wan imagined that Anakin would insist on going after Gar Saxon himself, and Obi-Wan decided that perhaps it truly was better that his friend had stayed on Coruscant, even if he must be bored out of his mind.

Obi-Wan hoped that Anakin was alright. He hoped that the children were safe, and he hoped Padmé had been around the Jedi long enough to not be too surprised by the Force sensitivities in the children.

And he hoped—

 _Well now_ , Obi-Wan thought, somewhat amused to himself, _that would just be too unrealistic._

He pressed forward.

\--

“And you’re certain that Saxon’s people won’t track the ships coming in?” Obi-Wan asked, his arms folded over his chest as he looked out the viewport. The moon was coming into view now, its green and brown surface greeting their ship with an uncanny calm.

“The moon is bigger than you think,” Bo-Katan replied. “And if he _does_ track us, then that will be his loss, won’t it?”

“That’s certainly one way to look at things,” Obi-Wan mused, keeping his gaze out the viewport. He became aware of each passing moment as they got closer and closer to the moon, and although Bo-Katan herself kept her tone light, Obi-Wan could feel the woman’s caution, no matter how stifled it was. Hers, as well as those of the others in the ship. But no one betrayed so much of those emotions on their faces save for the slight clench of a jaw, the squaring of shoulders.

“I assume Satine and I are to navigate the mines first,” Obi-Wan said slowly. “What then? We need a plan.”

Bo-Katan adjusted her helmet. “We follow. Try not to get killed. That’s all there is to it.” She leaned back against her seat, and after a beat, she added more seriously, “My people will come through. We’ll have one group covering each exit of the mine, and we’ll have the communication systems running if we find out that there’s one entrance that’s getting most of the firefight.”

“And if Saxon isn’t there?” Obi-Wan prompted.

“He’ll be there,” Bo-Katan replied firmly. “My people have caught onto that much. And speaking of,” she added, standing up, “Satine—you’ll need this.” She tossed a helmet to Satine, who caught it with both hands. “Protection.”

“I’ll stay out of the line of fire,” Satine said, turning over the helmet in her hands.

Bo-Katan smiled grimly. “I know you will,” she said, resting against the pilot’s seat. “But you know it’s not just protection from blaster fire.”

A conversation that Bo-Katan and Satine have had many times, it would seem. Obi-Wan saw the slight crease in between Satine’s brows, but then she tugged on the helmet. Still, Obi-Wan could sense her surveying the rest of the ship as she said, her voice slightly distorted by the helmet, “I will be glad when all of this is over.”

“As will all of us, Duchess,” Ahsoka said, a slight smile on her lips. She glanced to Bo-Katan. “And the helmet…has that been another—”

“We thought of getting her to wear the helmet and the armor when she needed to walk somewhere beside the courtyard. A useful disguise.” Bo-Katan nodded to Satine. “You had better—”

“I know, I know,” Satine said, standing up. Even through the helmet, Obi-Wan could see the annoyed expression she had to be wearing now. 

“ _Go_ ,” Bo-Katan said, though there was almost something teasing in her voice now, although the concern—that was concern for Bo-Katan, Obi-Wan realized—was still present. That concern completely overtook her face the moment Satine disappeared through the doors, but when Obi-Wan turned to her, Bo-Katan had wiped her expression clean of anything other than hardened determination.

“Right,” she said, turning back around to the viewport. “When you two get on the speeder, we’ll be right behind you. I don’t suppose I have to tell you to stay off the main paths, do I?”

“No.”

“Thought so,” Bo-Katan said as the ship entered the atmosphere. Obi-Wan saw the other ships out of the corner of his eye—smaller ships, each of them carrying three to four of Bo-Katan’s people.

“I’m assuming this incident on Concordia was the reason why Mandalore briefly outlawed weapons from off-worlders?” Ahsoka finally asked, breaking the silence.

Obi-Wan turned to Ahsoka and found that the corners of her lips were just barely twitching. Rex suddenly seemed interesting in the paneling on the walls. Ahsoka blinked innocently at Obi-Wan, although he knew that look a little too well. It was the same look that Ahsoka would give him even when she was still a Padawan, back when she was either about to spring news of some mischief or ask him for something that he would most certainly and only reluctantly have to take part of later on.

“Yes, Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan said dryly. “I would imagine this was the reason.”

“Interesting,” Ahsoka said. And then, after another beat of silence, she asked, “Care to tell us that tale some time?”

“Not now, Ahsoka.”

“Some time, though? Even Rex is curious.”

A choked sound from Rex, followed by an apologetic grimace.

Obi-Wan would have smiled if he could. He only looked at the two, feeling both mildly exasperated and—not quite gratitude, but perhaps something close enough. He knew what they were doing.

“Perhaps some time later,” Obi-Wan decided to say.

The smile Ahsoka gave Obi-Wan was genuine. “Looking forward to it,” she said, just as the ship broke through the clouds.

“Looking forward to what?”

The doors slid open, and Satine came walking back in. She had changed out of her clothes for the familiar Mandalorian armor, and although the expression on her face was one of distaste, Obi-Wan had the strange feeling that she had grown accustomed to its fitting. Her helmet sat under her arm, and Obi-Wan noticed that she had tied her hair back into a bun at the back of her head. A strand had still come free, just barely slipping past her eye.

She looked different, perhaps a bit resigned to be suited in this disguise, but still, she moved in it with some familiarity. And then Obi-Wan noticed—

“Red armor,” he commented. “I would think that stands out amongst Bo-Katan’s people.”

“I usually wear the blue,” Satine replied. “But considering we will be infiltrating Saxon’s hideouts…” A tight smile. “Any extra concealment will be useful.”

Obi-Wan nodded once. “Of course,” he said. He cleared his throat and turned to Bo-Katan abruptly, asking, “And do your people know _not_ to shoot—”

“Satine’s comm is linked up to that suit, don’t you worry,” Bo-Katan said dryly. Obi-Wan ignored the pointedness of her tone. “And she won’t be getting anywhere near the actual fighting once you two get to the mines. An escort’s already been planned, should things get ugly.”

“I do not need an escort,” Satine said.

Bo-Katan shot her sister a lopsided smile. “Of course you don’t,” she only said before seating herself back down to the pilot’s seat. “Buckle in,” she said, taking hold of the controls. “We’ll be landing shortly.” She looked over her shoulder and, giving Obi-Wan a lopsided smile, “Come to think of it, Master Jedi, you might as well change too, if you’re going to be riding the speeder with Satine.”

\--

He tried not to think about what had happened the last time he had donned on the red Mandalorian armor.

An escort was planned. There were more reinforcements this time. This time would not be like the last time.

And if it did—

Obi-Wan’s thoughts roamed to the crystal. A healing crystal, he figured. But he wasn’t entirely sure if even healing crystals were capable of bringing people back to life—and if they were, the Jedi certainly didn’t endorse such usages. A chill ran up Obi-Wan’s spine at the thought of anyone else getting a hold of that power. He knew of Sidious’ temptations to Anakin: a promise to protect Padmé from death.

Obi-Wan didn’t want to think about what would happen if such a power fell into the wrong hands.

But then there was the question of _who_ had used the crystal. Who had been _capable_ of using the crystal. A Force-sensitive being somewhere out in the galaxy, seemingly under the protection of both Satine and Bo-Katan Kryze. And yet that being hadn’t taken the crystal with him or herself, so perhaps that being didn’t necessarily crave attention or power…

“Ready to go?”

Obi-Wan turned around to find Ahsoka hovering at the top of the ramp, her hands resting at her hips. She hadn’t bothered changing out of her own clothes—she hadn’t needed to, as she would be in the back with Bo-Katan and the others. She walked down the ramp to where Obi-Wan stood with the speeder. “I didn’t think red was your color,” she commented lightly.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said, looking down at himself. “Well, it would seem that the current situation demands all kinds of sacrifices.”

Ahsoka smiled. And then, gesturing behind herself, she said, “Satine should be coming out soon. I think Bo-Katan’s just giving her some extra…advice.”

“Ah.”

Ahsoka’s smile faded briefly, and then she asked, “How are you?”

Obi-Wan managed a smile of his own. “Quite alright,” he replied as gently as he could. “Thank you for asking.”

The look on Ahsoka’s face told Obi-Wan that he hadn’t convinced her one bit. But she only said, “We’ll have your back. Both of your backs.”

Something in Obi-Wan softened at the earnestness in Ahsoka’s voice. Earnestness, yes, and then the slight, determined edge that told him that the young girl before him was indeed not quite the same fourteen year old who had walked down the ramp of the shuttle on Christophsis all those years ago. He suddenly became aware that he no longer had to tilt his head as much as he used to when speaking to Ahsoka—she had grown over the years, he had noticed that much, but now, he could only wonder if she had grown even more since the end of the war. Sooner or later, he had the sneaking suspicion that she would grow taller than him.

“I would tell you to be on your guard,” Obi-Wan said, finding his voice at last. “But something tells me you don’t need me to tell you such.”

Ahsoka gave him a cocky smile that was purely her own.

“But still,” Obi-Wan said. “Be on your guard.”

“Of course, Master.”

They shared a brief smile before the doors at the top of the ramp opened again.

Obi-Wan looked up to find Satine walking down, her helmet resting under her arm. Bo-Katan stood behind her at the top of the ramp, arms folded across her chest. Her eyes bore into the back of Satine’s head, and when she found Obi-Wan looking at her, she just gave a single, tight nod.

\--

The night air was brisk, but the armor and speeder was enough to keep Obi-Wan and Satine warm as they sped through the dirt paths. Satine didn’t seem bothered by the dropping temperatures, either, her whole being steady and still. Obi-Wan wondered once again how much she had truly practiced. He could easily imagine Satine—stubborn, stubborn Satine—defying her sister’s will to practice moving around as much as she wished. Although Obi-Wan knew that Bo-Katan herself was perhaps just as headstrong as Satine, he imagined that—judging by their interactions thus far—Satine had muscled her way through the trials of her own recovery.

And what other trials there must have been—

Obi-Wan saw the fall of the darksaber, heard Satine’s choked cry right before she dropped to the ground.

He had seen and heard those last scenes for weeks, months on end. He wondered how much Satine remembered. If she remembered at all—if she remembered those last few moments. If she remembered her own words to him as Obi-Wan remembered them.

And should she remember them—

Obi-Wan could now hear the faint hums of the speeders somewhere behind them, around them. Familiar presences. Ahsoka was somewhere behind him, just as she had said she would.

“We’re almost there,” Satine said suddenly, and Obi-Wan looked ahead where yes, he could find the opening of the mine some meters away. But as they got closer and closer, Obi-Wan saw that the entrance been caved in by rocks and rubbish.

“They closed it,” Satine said, slowing the speeder. “Or they ran.”

The speeder came to a stop in front of the covered entrance.

Obi-Wan slipped off first. Even through his helmet, he could smell the smoke and scorching earth beneath him. He took a few steps closer to the entrance. He set a hand on a bit of debris and flinched away. Hot—much hotter than he had expected.

“This was done recently,” he said turning to Satine. “Saxon and his people can’t be too far off.”

“Why bother covering the entrance?” Satine asked. “When he could have just left.”

Obi-Wan frowned at the blocked entrance. “I’m not sure,” he replied. “He could have been hiding something. Or perhaps this was an accident.” But even he did not quite believe those words as he turned back around to Satine.

“There are other entrances,” Satine pointed out. “If he wanted to hide something, then he could be still trying to block those others.”

“We heard that,” Bo-Katan said, her voice crackling through the comm system inside Obi-Wan’s helmet. Judging by the way Satine tilted her head, Obi-Wan knew that she must be listening to her sister as well. “We’re splitting to cover the other entrances right now. Satine, you stay there. The escort is coming.”

“Nothing’s happened,” Satine said sharply. “I don’t need an escort.”

“And right now, Saxon and his people are probably crawling around the area. Armor or not, he’ll know that he has two extra people now that he’s moved everyone out so quickly.”

Obi-Wan didn’t hear Satine’s response, but judging by her shaking head, he could guess that Bo-Katan and Satine had moved the conversation to a private comm channel. He lingered by the blocked entrance, warily eyeing the bits of rock and metal. If the other entrances were indeed blocked, and if Gar Saxon had actually fled Concordia beforehand, then Mandalore would be at risk once more.

Satine’s voice suddenly cut in through Obi-Wan’s channel. “My sister’s people have not come yet. We’re closer to the other entrances than they are.”

“And?” Obi-Wan asked, walking towards the speeder. Somehow, though, he knew what Satine was going to say even before she said the words.

“And,” Satine said, revving the speeder, “I plan on going to the other entrances. We cannot let him get away, should he still be in the area.”

“And if he is in the area?” Obi-Wan asked slowly, stopping directly in front of the speeder. “What then?”

“Then we keep him there until my sister and reinforcements arrive,” Satine replied.

Obi-Wan looked down the dirt path, but the speeders were still some ways off. He could only just barely make out the dust cloud that would be carrying the beginnings of reinforcements. He turned back around to Satine, who hadn’t budged from the speeder.

“You should stay here,” Obi-Wan said at last.

Satine bristled. “I see,” she said coolly. “And so now you choose to finally give an opinion.”

“What—” Obi-Wan started to say, but then he stopped. He inhaled, let out a long breath. “I would _hope_ I have a solid opinion when it comes to your safety.”

“And I _will_ be safe,” Satine said, “once Gar Saxon is no longer running about Mandalore or Concordia or any other place in this galaxy.” Her voice turned harder as she added, “I am _not_ a delicate creature you must fret over, Master Jedi. Difficult as it may seem, I am _quite_ capable of going about my own, even _if_ I must remain disguised.”

“I never said you were _delicate_ —”

“No?” Satine asked, whipping off her helmet. Cold eyes, like chips of diamond, met his even straight through the helmet. “And I suppose that is why you so adamantly choose to not…” She set the helmet on her lap, her jaw squaring.

“Satine,” Obi-Wan started, but Satine wasn’t finished speaking.

“When you look at me,” Satine said slowly, quietly, “it feels as though you are looking at someone else.” She lifted her head, and while Obi-Wan found no tears, he found a grief so piercing that his chest ached. “Someone who you don’t quite recognize. Or see.”

She pressed her lips together into a bitter smile. Obi-Wan dimly remembered all the other times she had given that same exact smile, only under different settings. A fight gone wrong. Or a farewell gone wrong. Multiple farewells gone wrong. Too many farewells gone wrong.

“You don’t see me.” She started to pick up her helmet, and turning it over in her hands, she murmured, “Perhaps this disguise would do the two of us good. At least that way, it would be easier.”

She started to put the helmet over her head, but before she could, Obi-Wan’s hand shot out. Took hold of her wrist.

“Wait,” he said.

Satine stilled. She lifted her eyes up to Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan swallowed. “I—” he started, but before he could say anything else, movement caught hold in the corner of his eye.

He only just saw the glint of red armor before he yanked Satine off the speeder. He could hear the rush of boots rushing towards them, and then the soft whistle of _something_ flying through the air—

Obi-Wan had heard that sound before.

He caught a flare of light before he took Satine’s hand, and then they were running just as their speeder went up in flames behind themselves. A blast of hot air knocked them down to the ground, and Obi-Wan instinctively lifted his arm to cover Satine as debris flew over their heads.

Something slammed into Obi-Wan’s shoulder, and a moment later, he felt a blinding burst of pain that would have made him topple over had he not been already on the ground. He let out a small gasp, but he dared not drop himself away from Satine, not until the last of the debris had landing.

“Are you alright?” Obi-Wan asked, looking down at Satine. He yanked off his helmet. There was no need for _that_ anymore. “Are you—”

“I’m fine,” Satine said, her face ashen and streaked with dirt, but Obi-Wan found no injuries, no blood. “Obi-Wan, your shoulder—”

“Don’t worry about that,” Obi-Wan said, grabbing Satine’s hand. “We need to get you out of here. The others should be—”

But then Obi-Wan felt the air ripple behind him, and Satine’s mouth just only started to open before he spun around, lightsaber already activating in time to deflect the yellow bolt of blaster fire. He found men and women in red armor, all of whom were armed.

“Ah,” Obi-Wan said, twisting his lightsaber around his wrist. “Not good. Satine, stay behind—”

Before he could finish, there was a blur of blue, and then Ahsoka’s voice came crackling through the comms: “I told you I’ve got your back, didn’t I?”

And then hell broke loose.

Yellow blaster fire met with yellow blaster fire, Bo-Katan’s people flying up on jetpacks and unleashing whistling darts that struck Gar Saxon’s people down to the ground. Ahsoka came flying up from her speeder, letting it crash into a pair of men in red and orange flames before landing lightly in front of Obi-Wan and Satine.

“Duchess,” Ahsoka said, tilting her head at Satine. “I thought Bo-Katan told you to keep your helmet on?”

“Believe me when I say that I am already anticipating the lecture,” Satine said, throwing a rock at an oncoming soldier.

“Have you spotted Saxon?” Obi-Wan asked Ahsoka, deflecting a blaster bolt away from themselves.

“No,” Ahsoka said. “Bo-Katan thinks he might be at the side entrances after all, hiding out somewhere. She sent some people, but—” She cut herself off as she deflected a blast.

“But?” Obi-Wan asked. “Ahsoka, what—”

“Their comms went down,” Ahsoka said, expertly cutting a blaster in half. She Force pushed a group of soldiers away and, turning to Obi-Wan, she said with furrowed brows, “And right now, the rest of us are occupied with _this_ mess. Rex and Bo-Katan are already taking the other entrance, but they haven’t found Saxon either.”

Obi-Wan’s blood chilled. “This is a distraction,” he said. “They mean to hold us here.”

“Saxon can’t get away,” Ahsoka warned. “If he does—”

A blast kept Ahsoka from finishing her statement. They all reeled backwards, and then Satine said, “If Saxon is in the area, then we _have_ to find him.”

“We don’t have speeders,” Ahsoka pointed out.

Obi-Wan eyed the flying flares, the ones that created flame and smoke wherever they landed. He looked to the blocked entrance.

Both Ahsoka and Satine followed his gaze and then, after a beat, Satine said, “You can’t be serious.”

“Aren’t I always?” Obi-Wan asked, managing a worn smile. “Ahsoka, can I trust you to—”

“You don’t even have to ask,” Ahsoka said, twisting her sabers in her grip. “Just give the word.”

Obi-Wan nodded once, and ignoring the protest in his shoulder, he sped forward to the one soldier who had been firing the most flares. He could hear the blaster fire dwindling just a bit now, although he didn’t dare look around to see which side was losing more people. All that existed now was his path to this one soldier, who had turned his attention to him at last.

Obi-Wan saw the soldier ready the flare, and for a moment, Obi-Wan suddenly saw the soldier through the armor and helmet: he saw and felt that strange mix of anger and fear and, most frighteningly, _righteousness_ —as though this blow to the people of Mandalore was justified and _correct_.

And this soldier was young. Obi-Wan felt that youth too, and he felt almost sorry for him, wondered what sort of circumstances must have brought a youth into a mess such as this.

At least he would blow apart the entrance.

Obi-Wan dove away from the flares at just the right moment—just enough to hear that faint whistle, feel the twist in the air as the flares arced past him and—

The earth trembled and shook underneath him, and had Obi-Wan not called on the Force to stabilize himself, he probably would have been knocked down as well. He saw soldiers on both Saxon and Bo-Katan’s sides alike stumble backwards—no one dead, but shocked enough that when Obi-Wan yelled for Ahsoka and Satine to _move_ , no one save for themselves seemed to notice.

And by the time the soldiers had regained consciousness, Obi-Wan, Satine, and Ahsoka would already be long gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's like a good old life-or-death situation to give our characters a little push? As always, comments/kudos/subscriptions are greatly appreciated!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uhh,,,this chapter is pretty long, but I had a lot of ground to cover, so I'm sorry for shoving this 5K word chapter in your faces--

The mine was dark.

And damp.

Not unpleasantly so, but Ahsoka’s skin still crawled at the fact that she was underground. She recalled a certain mission nearly gone terribly wrong a little too well—a droid factory, endless catacombs, a pair of lightsabers being held up in the all-consuming darkness. Ahsoka had still managed to go underground when she had to. She had enough of Anakin’s teachings to know that she couldn’t let fear stop her from pursuit, but still…she found that she preferred to keep her head and her feet above ground.

 _Stop_ , Ahsoka told herself sternly. This wasn’t Geonosis. This wasn’t anything _like_ Geonosis. She wasn’t alone—

But she hadn’t been alone on Geonosis, either, not quite—

Ahsoka forced her thoughts to focus themselves, to snap back to the reality before her. Right now, she was not on Geonosis. She was in a Concordian mine with Obi-Wan and Satine, not some other Padawan. And they were looking for Gar Saxon, wherever he was.

Save for their hurrying footsteps, the mine was eerily quiet. Gar Saxon’s people had either been too shaken or too occupied with Bo-Katan’s forces to bother following them into the mine, though they didn’t take any chances. They still moved quickly. If Satine was strained under the sudden movement, she didn’t show it, though Ahsoka felt the occasional flicker of pain and weariness that certainly wasn’t coming from herself.

Or perhaps that was coming from Obi-Wan.

Or, no—it was coming from both Obi-Wan _and_ Satine. Pain in different places, perhaps, but the weariness was all the same.

Ahsoka wondered what exactly they had been talking about on their way to the mine. If they had talked at all. She hadn’t been able to sense anything from either of them when she had come barreling into the site, but now, in the tense silence, she could make out the strands of frustration between the two of them.

She mentally filed away that observation. She would think on it more later, when this mess was over with. Now was hardly the right moment to start asking about Obi-Wan and Satine’s past, whether it be from a few minutes ago or from a few years ago.

“Which entrance was Bo-Katan and Rex covering?” Obi-Wan asked now.

“The western entrance,” Ahsoka replied, her voice too loud in the mine. She cringed at the slight echo in her words, and in an effort to minimize the sound, she added in lower tones, “The people we sent to the eastern entrance hadn’t responded back.”

“Then that is where we will find our friend,” Obi-Wan said. As though sensing the decision itself, the mine broke off into two different parts, two different paths leading off into opposite directions. Ahsoka turned to her right and found nothing but darkness. Not even an emergency light.

And to her left…

A warm breeze passed through the mine.

And with it, Ahsoka could feel a presence. A cold, steady presence that told Ahsoka that whoever was at the end of the tunnel was expecting whatever was to come.

“Obi-Wan—”

“I know,” Obi-Wan’s voice was quiet.

“He’s waiting for us,” Ahsoka said slowly. “He’s not running. Why isn’t he running? Unless—” She turned her eyes to Satine. The duchess met her gaze, and under the glow of the blue lightsabers, Satine’s face seemed almost ghostly. But the duchess’ face betrayed no fear as the recognition dawned on them all.

“He knows,” Satine said simply. “He must have known the moment I took off my helmet.” 

“There’s also the people who Bo-Katan sent,” Ahsoka pointed out. “He must have gotten them to talk somehow.” She turned to Obi-Wan. “If Gar Saxon is waiting for Satine, then—”

“The western exit,” Obi-Wan said, turning his lightsaber down the opposite tunnel. “Ahsoka, you must escort Satine—”

“A valiant effort,” Satine said flatly, pushing past Obi-Wan. “But it will take more than a mere man to scare me into fleeing once more.”

Ahsoka started to move after Satine, but Obi-Wan’s hand was already reaching out for Satine’s elbow. Both Satine and Obi-Wan stopped short, and then they were both looking down at where Obi-Wan’s hand remained on Satine. Ahsoka held her breath.

“Satine,” Obi-Wan said quietly, and Ahsoka wondered if it was possible for the Force to muffle out whatever words would come next, because she had the suspicion that this moment was—yet again—something to private for her to witness. She settled instead for staring pointedly at the rock ceiling. Ah, yes. That would have to do. Ahsoka could see some stalagmites, dripping with just the smallest beads of water.

But Ahsoka could still hear Obi-Wan’s voice as he said, “Please.”

A silence.

Ahsoka kept her eyes on the stalagmites.

And then Satine repeated, “A valiant effort.”

Ahsoka looked in time to see Satine tug her elbow away from Obi-Wan’s grip. His hand lingered in the empty air a second longer than Ahsoka anticipated, even as Satine started down the tunnel. “If Gar Saxon wants an audience,” the duchess said coolly, “then who am I to turn down such a request?”

The duchess walked a few more steps before Obi-Wan said, “I suppose I can’t convince _you_ to turn back, can I?”

“Not a chance,” Ahsoka replied. She looked at Obi-Wan. She wondered if she should smile, but again, the time hardly seemed to call for it. So she settled for a nod instead.

Obi-Wan sighed. “Well, then,” he said, turning around with his lightsaber held high. “They await.”

\--

Ahsoka and Obi-Wan caught up to Satine eventually. Her steps had slowed considerably, and though Satine’s expression remained cool, Ahsoka knew that the night—the whole day—must be wearing thin on her. The breeze had picked up again, becoming cooler with what Ahsoka knew had to be the morning.

Still, not one of their steps faltered as they came closer and closer to the mouth of the tunnel. Grey light streamed towards them, but even then, Ahsoka couldn’t see their shadows as they came nearer to the entrance. Ahsoka didn’t dare turn off her lightsabers even with the light. And neither had Obi-Wan, she noticed.

Together, they reached the end of the tunnel.

Ahsoka smelled the burned bodies first.

She saw the charred remains second.

She heard a slight intake of breath—Satine.

But when she looked, the duchess’ eyes were fixed on the figures standing amid the dead.

Ahsoka hadn’t personally met Gar Saxon, nor had she ever gotten the chance to confront him, but she heard enough. She saw the scars marking the man’s cruel, battle-hardened face and knew that he was not one to resist easily. And Ahsoka realized that Gar Saxon was not here to negotiate whatsoever.

Ahsoka tightened her grip on her sabers. She hoped Bo-Katan and Rex would bring their forces over to the eastern entrance sooner rather than later. She counted six lackeys with Gar Saxon. Seven grown men and women who were armed to the teeth and probably uncaring of whether or not they took people dead or alive.

“Duchess Kryze, isn’t it?” Saxon said at last. He tilted his head at Satine. “And you brought friends.”

“I know why you wish to see me,” Satine said in a hard voice. “And I have come to tell you to surrender while you still can.” She took a step forward, her head held high as she said, “Because so long as I live, Mandalore will never fall to the hands of the likes of you.”

“The likes of me?” Saxon repeated, the first snarl coming to his lips. “I am but one of many who remain dissatisfied with your rule, Duchess. The Mandalore you have created is an insult to the very name of Mandalore itself.”

Satine remained unbothered. “Such I have heard before,” she said. “Mandalore has survived your attacks before. And it would seem,” she said, “that the spirit of Mandalore is difficult to kill.”

That ugly smile on Saxon’s face remained. Ahsoka instinctively lifted her sabers higher as Saxon’s lackeys shifted around him. They were getting ready for a fight, she could tell. Just any movement, and they would all break loose.

“Difficult to kill,” Saxon now mused. “That has been a curiosity of mine as well.” He tilted his head to Satine. “An interesting matter, one which I am sure we will discover once the time comes. Once we discover the one responsible.”

Ahsoka felt fear—cold, creeping fear that seeped into the air.

“I would not count on it,” Satine only said.

Saxon sneered. “A bold declaration, Duchess,” he said. “Pity that no one will be able to remember it.” And with that, he jerked his head.

There was a blur of red and grey, and then yellow blaster bolts were met with flashes of blue saber as both Ahsoka and Obi-Wan deflected, steadied themselves for the onslaught of Saxon’s lackeys.

“Duchess, back to the tunnel,” Ahsoka ground out as she kicked a lackey away from herself.

Satine’s voice was faint as she replied, “I’m afraid that won’t do much good.”

“What—” Ahsoka risked a glance backwards, and her stomach pitched forward at the gathering of red armor making their way down the tunnel. Towards them.

They were trapped on both sides.

 _Rex, Bo-Katan_ , Ahsoka thought desperately, _this would be a great time for you two to come now_.

But no one came, and Ahsoka forced herself in front of Satine, steadying her lightsabers for the oncoming soldiers. _Just a small army_ , Ahsoka thought to herself. _Just a small army._

“Ahsoka—”

“On it!” Ahsoka called over her shoulder to Obi-Wan. She spun her lightsabers in time to the volley of golden blaster bolts her way. She heard the hiss of blaster bolts finding their marks, the thunk of bodies hitting the dirt, but for every drop of a single soldier, three more seemed to take his or her place.

From behind her, Ahsoka could tell that Obi-Wan faring just a little better, but even then, seven armed and angry people against one wasn’t exactly a fair fight. And he had an injured shoulder too, Ahsoka remembered dimly. She risked another glance backwards in time to find Obi-Wan slicing a blaster in half, Force pushing the soldier away.

 _Well, at least that’s one down_ , Ahsoka thought, spinning back around to the small army still gathered in front of her. She flipped one of her lightsabers in her hand, brightening the mass of men and women still charging for her. Any second now, they would break through the entrance, and then—

Ahsoka didn’t think about that as she twisted her sabers against the wave of blasts. She called on the Force to shove aside a few soldiers. The faint crunch told her that she had managed to break a few bones at the very least.

But they were coming closer. Ahsoka could see the glint of their helmets, their armor, their blasters catching in the ever brightening day behind her.

Suddenly, she caught movement in the corner of her eye.

“Duchess!” Ahsoka called, but Satine was moving to the side of the mine entrance, her hands slightly raised over her head. “What are you—”

“The entrance!” Satine cried. “We need to—”

Ahsoka realized what the duchess was saying a moment later. _First Obi-Wan blows up the entrance, and now Satine caves the entrance in_ , Ahsoka thought as she looked up at the already weakening pillars holding up the entrance of the mine.

“Obi-Wan!” Ahsoka called over her shoulder. “Did you catch that?”

A small grunt was the only response Ahsoka received.

Ahsoka decided that would have to be good enough. “On the count of three!” she shouted over her shoulder, still deflecting the spray of blasts. “One, two…” The glint of metal was coming in much faster now.

“ _Three!_ ”

Ahsoka dove to the right—Obi-Wan dove to the left, and Ahsoka heard their lightsabers slash at the pillars in unison. There was a terrible groan, and then a bone-rattling shudder as the pillars toppled, and then the top of the mine entrance, and then—

Boulders and debris now covered the mouth of the entrance.

But there job was far from over.

Ahsoka spun around.

And perhaps it was because the ground had been shaking just a second earlier, or perhaps it was because Ahsoka’s head was still ringing from confronting an army, or perhaps it was simply because Ahsoka was exhausted, but she didn’t turn around fast enough.

Pain exploded at her leg, and she crumpled forward, smelling burnt leather and flesh.

“ _Ahsoka_ —” Obi-Wan. That was Obi-Wan calling her.

A cruel laugh, and then—

Gritting her teeth through the white-hot pain, Ahsoka flung up her saber in time to catch the soldier by the chest.

She heard a stuttered gasp, a few garbled words that she couldn’t make out, and then the soldier dropped down in front of her.

Ahsoka grunted, shoving the soldier away. She forced herself up to her feet, unable to keep the sharp cry from leaving her lips. She didn’t dare look down at what she knew was her still-smoking leg from where the blaster bolt had found its mark. 

But still—

She managed to lift her saber in time to block another blast. Her arms ached— _why were they aching, she hadn’t even been shot there_ —but she kept her movements in time. She didn’t allow herself to focus on the pain still creeping up her thigh, the pain that made her sway.

But now there were two soldiers down—another thump, and Ahsoka looked to find where Obi-Wan had taken care of another attacker. _Three down_.

She saw Satine throw something—a helmet, Ahsoka realized a second later.

A dull _thunk._

 _Four down_.

Ahsoka would have started laughing if her leg didn’t hurt so much. She forced herself forward, cutting down another blaster. She knocked the soldier—a young woman—into the side of the mine, not bothering to linger on the sound of a skull finding hard rock. Ahsoka turned around, her leg nearly giving out underneath her as she met no, not a blaster, but—

Ahsoka dropped down to a roll as she narrowly missed a length of sparking wire. She could smell that stinging, smoking electricity as she rolled away. Her leg screamed in pain, but she didn’t dare stop, not until she came against a rock.

And then, using the rock, she launched herself up. _Use the other leg, other leg_ —

And landed behind the soldier.

The soldier only had a second to turn around before Ahsoka brought her saber down on the hand holding the wire. She heard a shriek from within the helmet, but the soldier was alive. He dropped down to his knees, and Ahsoka knew he wouldn’t have the strength to rise again.

 _That counts as five down_ , Ahsoka thought grimly.

That just left the last lackey—and Saxon himself, who Ahsoka saw was only now pulling out a blaster. A man who had left all the fighting to his people, Ahsoka realized. But not out of cowardice, Ahsoka realized as Saxon’s eyes fixed on Satine and Obi-Wan.

Waiting them out.

Ahsoka ducked away from the oncoming fist of the last lackey. Fists, she realized, because she either had lost her weapon or because she didn’t need one.

Either way—

Ahsoka brought herself around, aimed her elbow for the woman’s chin. Her elbow met the helmet, but the woman’s head knocked backwards briefly, just enough for some disorientation, and Ahsoka was thinking that would be enough to get this lackey off her back when there were suddenly hands around her throat.

Ahsoka gasped as the woman’s hands clawed around her throat, squeezing breath and life—

Using her good leg, Ahsoka kicked backwards. Her boot found solid armor, but then the hands were released, and Ahsoka crashed to the ground face-first. She was aware of skin being rubbed raw at her chin, her cheek, but Ahsoka was scrambling to her back, her hands fighting for re-purchase on her sabers as the woman came lunging down on her—

Ahsoka brought her feet up and caught the woman in the stomach. She brought her legs _back_ , and then the woman went flying over Ahsoka’s head. She heard a sickening thud from behind her.

For a moment, Ahsoka could only stay on the ground, trying to remember how to breathe when the sound of blaster fire reached her hearing.

 _Obi-Wan_.

Ahsoka pushed herself up to her feet, reactivating her sabers.

She found Obi-Wan deflecting blaster bolts, but no—

Gar Saxon was soaring above Obi-Wan, the jet pack at his back maneuvering him too quickly. Ahsoka could see strain in Obi-Wan’s movements—he was tired now, she knew. Tired, but even from where she stood, Ahsoka could see that determined focus gleaming in Obi-Wan’s eyes, the kind that Ahsoka had seen and admired and been slightly intimidated by as a Padawan.

Ahsoka looked frantically to the horizon, where the sun was rising. The sky had turned a strange shade of yellow, and then Ahsoka had an idea—

If Saxon could get blinded by the light—

But that would require Obi-Wan turning a certain way, which would mean Satine would have to follow him, and from where they were, Ahsoka could easily see Saxon finding that one moment of vulnerability and take his aim on either of them.

Ahsoka deactivated her lightsabers. Looked around at the scattered boulders. She could throw herself up. Her leg twinged in anticipation of that movement, but Obi-Wan couldn’t move without leaving Satine exposed, and there was no one else here except for herself.

Ahsoka took a deep breath and turned to the boulders around her. She kept her lightsabers in her hands and, bracing herself, she started on her first step—

And then the light was suddenly blocked out by a mass of shadows.

Not just shadows, Ahsoka realized as she lifted her head up.

“You called for the extra firepower?” Rex called from above.

Ahsoka felt a smile break across her face, and she nearly sank to the ground right then and there, but then she only pointed backwards, and that was all Rex and Bo-Katan and the others needed to dive forwards.

Ahsoka heard the blasters suddenly stopping, and she turned around to find Gar Saxon cornered against the mine as Bo-Katan and Rex led the rush forward.

“You’re outnumbered,” Bo-Katan was snarling from above. “You can either surrender or…” She tugged out a blaster. Even with her helmet on, Ahsoka could hear that cruel smile in her voice as Bo-Katan said, “Face the other consequences.”

Gar Saxon hovered in the air for a moment, his hand still locked around his blaster. 

Ahsoka watched his grey eyes flick around the men and women around him, all of them hovering and ready.

Gar Saxon lowered his blaster.

Ahsoka allowed herself a moment of relief— _over, this was over_ —

But then multiple things happened at once.

A blast—not at Bo-Katan or any of the others, but _down_.

“ _Satine_ —”

And then another blast—multiple blasts—and then Gar Saxon spiraling down to the ground, riddled with the scorches of blaster marks—

And then Ahsoka was hurrying forward, ignoring the pain in her leg as she stumbled and staggered to where Satine and Obi-Wan were—

Satine’s face was white, and for a moment, Ahsoka wondered if—

But then Ahsoka became aware of Satine’s hands scrambling for Obi-Wan, and she heard the shuddering, “ _Idiot, you idiot_ —”

And she realized that Satine hadn’t been the one who was shot.

Obi-Wan was struggling to sit up, as though he hadn’t had a gaping wound at his side. “Ah,” he was saying, his eyes slightly unfocused. “Satine…are you…”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Satine said furiously. “You—” She looked up. “A speeder,” she barked. “ _Now_.”

\--

The next few minutes were a blur.

Ahsoka remembered someone forcing her into a speeder. And then she was suddenly at the ship, and Obi-Wan was being carried away somewhere—“we have a medical droid,” she heard Bo-Katan say. “He’ll be fine.”

Ahsoka nodded. She didn’t doubt it, but that didn’t keep her from limping to the small, cramped space that called itself a medbay. She found that she wasn’t alone.

Ahsoka caught one glimpse of the medbay before ducking behind the wall. She waited one second, two, before peeking inside again.

She found Satine sitting at the edge of the cot, her hands resting on her lap. Obi-Wan was awake, but just barely, eyes fluttering from the administered anesthetic. Ahsoka could see the bacta patch already implanted at his side. The medical droid, completely oblivious to the scene before him, only hummed and retreated into its corner.

“If you even _think_ about doing something like that again—”

“Save your life?” Obi-Wan asked. His voice was a low murmur, really too soft for human ears, Ahsoka supposed, but she could thank her montrals for otherwise. And then, frowning, he said, “I hope I did it right this time.” 

Ahsoka turned away from the medbay.

A silence.

And then Satine said quietly, “Obi-Wan…”

“Do you remember?”

Another silence.

“Yes,” Satine said. “I remember. All of it.”

A small sound, one that came from Obi-Wan. Ahsoka wasn’t sure what that meant.

She risked another glance into the medbay, and this time, she saw Satine’s hand resting on the side of Obi-Wan’s face, her thumb brushing over the bristles of his beard. The movement was so gentle, and yet done in such a way that told Ahsoka that Satine must have done this before.

And then Ahsoka saw the way Obi-Wan was looking up at Satine now. Even through the pain, his eyes were fixed. And there was something else, something that Ahsoka had caught only in glimpses and flashes on Obi-Wan’s face but now, with him being so unguarded, Ahsoka could see his expression to the full extent: she could see the longing there. The longing and…

This was too private.

Ahsoka backed away slowly, around the corner of the medbay, and then—

“What’re you doing here?”

“Rex,” Ahsoka said, her voice hushed. “Don’t go in the medbay.”

Rex frowned, and then he looked down at Ahsoka’s leg. “But you—”

“Don’t,” Ahsoka said. “It’s um…occupied.”

Rex’s frown deepened, and at Ahsoka’s expression, he asked slowly, “Did you see something you weren’t supposed to see?”

“Maybe,” Ahsoka said with an embarrassed smile.

“Ah.” Rex at least had the grace to look a little embarrassed for her as well. And then, after a heartbeat, he said, “I think I saw an extra bacta patch lying around in one of the emergency packs. I can get one of those. You just…don’t move that leg.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” Ahsoka said, relieved.

Rex only gave her a quick smile before walking down the hall.

In the meantime, Ahsoka settled herself down to the floor. She winced, just barely withholding the hiss that threatened to come out. She looked down at the scorch mark in her leg, and, gingerly, she started to tear at her mostly-burned leggings. Her fingers skimmed once over the blaster burn, and Ahsoka instantly regretted it.

But she kept tearing away that strip of her leggings until the full blaster wound exposed to the light. Ahsoka looked at the charred mark on her leg and was glad when Rex came back with the bacta patch.

“Good,” Rex said, looking down at the discarded scrap of legging. “You were ready.”

“Almost like I’ve done this before,” Ahsoka said dryly.

Rex only huffed out a laugh before kneeling down next to her. Ahsoka felt the cool patch, the strange, gel-like material moving within as Rex settled the patch over the wound. Ahsoka dropped her head back. “Thanks,” she said.

“Anytime,” Rex replied. He sat down against the wall with Ahsoka, his legs stretched out before him next to Ahsoka’s.

For a moment, the only thing they could do was sit in silence.

“So,” Ahsoka said at last, just barely tilting her head towards Rex, “was this what you were expecting when we got to Mandalore?”

“With you and Kenobi?” Rex said, casting Ahsoka a sidelong glance. “I’ve learned to expect _something_.”

Ahsoka let out a laugh. It was a weak laugh, but it felt good.

Then, Rex asked, “So how is the general, anyways?”

“The med droid patched him up,” Ahsoka replied. “He should be okay. He probably shouldn’t strain himself in the next few days.” She paused.

“That’ll be a feat in itself,” Rex commented.

“Tell me about it.” Ahsoka rolled her shoulders. “But after this…I don’t know what Satine or Bo-Katan’s planning. If Satine will step out of the shadows, now that Gar Saxon’s taken care of. She probably will,” she added after a pause, remembering Satine’s hard-edged determination over the course of the night. It was difficult to imagine Satine doing anything otherwise.

“That’ll be something.”

“The news of the galaxy,” Ahsoka said, rubbing a hand over her face.

“Never stops coming, does it?”

“Definitley not,” Ahsoka said with a wry smile. She dropped her hand to her lap and frowned. “I’m still unsure about that healing crystal though…” She brought her hand into the folds of her clothes and tugged out the small, glowing crystal.

Rex stared. “You had it with you the whole time?”

“I didn’t want to leave it behind,” Ahsoka replied. She looked at Rex. “Strange, isn’t it?” She pocketed the crystal again. “And then there’s the matter of _who_ used this thing…” She shook her head. “Whoever it is, they left the crystal behind, so I can’t imagine that this person really craves the power or the attention. And Satine and Bo-Katan seem to trust this person…”

“But you don’t know if we can,” Rex said.

“I don’t know,” Ahsoka said. “It’s just strange.” She glanced down the hallway, as though she might find the answers there. “I keep feeling like there’s more to this than Satine or Bo-Katan are letting on. _Much_ more.”

“And in the meantime?”

Ahsoka looked at Rex. They were both tired.

“In the meantime,” Ahsoka said, patting where the crystal still sat in the folds of her clothes, “we’ll just have to wait and see.”

\--

Ahsoka wanted nothing more than to crash into bed and sleep for the next two rotations, but Mandalore was already awake and alive and humming with energy as the ships landed on the platform outside the palace. She took one look out the viewport to find Bo-Katan’s people—but not just Bo-Katan’s people, because down far below, Ahsoka saw thousands—maybe tens of thousands, maybe even more—civilians gathered around.

“How…” Satine breathed from behind Ahsoka.

“They don’t know you’re alive,” Bo-Katan said. Ahsoka caught the small smile she gave her sister. “As far as they know, the main threat to Mandalore is no more. But they don’t quite know all of the players in the matter.”

Satine looked at Bo-Katan. “I thought you didn’t want me to reveal myself just yet.”

Bo-Katan settled a hand on Satine’s shoulder. “You’re my sister,” she said simply. “I was worried. Unsure.” She glanced out the viewport then back to Satine. “But you’re not some delicate creature—you’re a duchess.”

Satine smiled. A small smile, and then she asked, “How did you hear that?”

Bo-Katan shrugged. “Your Jedi friend’s comm picked up more than he was aware of,” she replied. Ahsoka noticed the slight teasing in the word _friend_ , and she noticed the light blush creeping up Satine’s face: the first color that Ahsoka had seen on Satine’s face since Obi-Wan had been shot.

“Well,” Satine said, clearing her throat, “I’m glad.”

“I’m sorry for being stubborn,” Bo-Katan said, her eyes turning downward briefly. “I’m sorry about…many things.”

Satine placed a hand on Bo-Katan’s shoulder. “It is a good thing we have time then,” she said, and the smile exchanged between Satine and Bo-Katan was so sincere and genuine that Ahsoka couldn’t help but wonder if she was _ever_ going to _not_ walk into some private moment between the duchess and someone else.

But, Ahsoka thought as Satine looked out to the viewport with shining eyes, she figured that perhaps witnessing such happiness wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

“Well,” Satine said at last, turning around to Ahsoka and Bo-Katan. “A new day awaits.”

And then Satine walked out of the cockpit, her head held high.

Ahsoka took a step forward to move after the duchess, but before she could, Bo-Katan set a hand on Ahsoka’s shoulder. Ahsoka stopped, turning around to the woman.

Bo-Katan’s usually sharp eyes had softened. “Thank you,” she said. “Again. You as well as your friends.”

Ahsoka smiled. “You’re welcome,” she said simply. “I’m looking forward to what becomes of Mandalore.”

“As am I,” Bo-Katan said. “And my offer—for the clones—still stands. I suspect the process will be much quicker now that Satine will officially be back in her place.”

Ahsoka beamed. “I’m glad to hear it,” she said. And then she stepped back, extending a hand.

Bo-Katan looked down and smiled. And then, taking Ahsoka’s hand, she gave it a strong shake.

“Just one thing, Bo-Katan,” Ahsoka said, looking down at their hands briefly. She flicked her eyes back up at Bo-Katan. “About the person who brought Satine back…”

She waited for Bo-Katan’s smile to fade, but it didn’t. It only turned a little sad, a little sympathetic.

“Will we ever learn who this person is?” Ahsoka asked.

Bo-Katan looked to the space where Satine had been just moments ago.

And then she looked at Ahsoka. “That will be up to Satine to decide,” Bo-Katan said.

Ahsoka nodded once. And then she asked, “Is this person…close? To the duchess?”

Another mysterious smile.

And Ahsoka realized that Bo-Katan would reveal nothing.

“Well,” Ahsoka said. “I tried.”

“Perhaps you will learn the truth one day, Ahsoka Tano,” Bo-Katan said, dropping Ahsoka’s hand. “Someday. Perhaps when the galaxy is prepared.”

Ahsoka heard a sudden roar, and Bo-Katan and she turned in time to find the hundreds of thousands of civilians cheering, clapping as Satine made her way to the edge of the platform. She had her cane with her, and her face was streaked with dirt, but Ahsoka knew that for the people of Mandalore, they had never seen their duchess look more like the regal ruler than ever before.

“The galaxy seems to preparing itself for many things,” Ahsoka murmured. She looked at Bo-Katan. “What’s one more surprise?”

Bo-Katan only laughed and, clapping her hand on Ahsoka’s shoulder, she walked out of the cockpit.

Ahsoka stayed behind, staring out at the sea of faces. And then a moment later, she saw Bo-Katan standing by her sister.

A moment later, she saw Rex and Obi-Wan. They hovered in the back, with Obi-Wan leaning on Rex’s shoulder. But Ahsoka noticed that Obi-Wan’s face wasn’t turned towards the Mandalorian people. No, he was looking right at Satine, and though she couldn’t see his expression, she had the strange feeling that right now, Satine was the only thing he could see.

Rex lifted his head then, and Ahsoka saw the smile on his face. He gestured with his arm, and Ahsoka waved back. He waved again, that grin on his face widening.

Ahsoka grinned and took that as her signal to join the cheering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments/kudos/subscriptions are greatly appreciated! 
> 
> I'm also on [tumblr](https://katierosefun.tumblr.com/) if you would ever like to scream some more about tcw/anything in general!


	14. Chapter 14

“You know we have to get up eventually.”

“Mm-hm,” Anakin said, burying his face in Padmé’s hair. “Five more minutes.” He snaked an arm around Padmé’s waist, tugging her closer to himself. Padmé let out a quiet laugh, her hand settling on Anakin’s with a warm squeeze. For a moment, Anakin thought Padmé would push him away, probably fling the blanket off themselves, but she stayed.

He knew why she did. He knew that she could play politician all day, but for just another five minutes, the rest of the galaxy and the rest of the day didn’t exist.

For five more minutes, they could just be another quiet couple with quiet couple problems. No fear of having their apartment infiltrated by spy droids or political calls or what other hellfire that seemed intent on disrupting them.

But five minutes passed too quickly, and then Padmé rolled over on her side so that she was facing Anakin. She looked tired, her face a shade paler than usual. Anakin doubted he looked much better, and the way Padmé’s eyes scanned him, the way she set her hand on his cheek confirmed it.

“I’m in trouble,” Anakin said at last.

Padmé’s brows furrowed. “Why?”

“I don’t want to get up.”

For a moment, Padmé’s brows remained furrowed, and then, she smiled, shaking her head. “Come on,” she said, sitting up. She wound her hands around Anakin’s forearms and yanked him up—well, tried to. For a few seconds, Anakin stayed resolutely against the mattress, watching Padmé’s expression turn from mild exasperation to amusement.

“ _Anakin,_ ” Padmé said.

“ _Padmé_ ,” Anakin mimicked, but he managed to sit up. He let Padmé slip her hands away from his arms, and then she was walking across the room, looking for clothes. Anakin swung his legs off the bed, watching her for a little while before she turned around and flung some clothes at him.

“Come on, sleepyhead,” she said. “You can’t just sit and stare.”

Anakin caught his clothes one-handed and, bringing his tunic over his head, he said, “I’d let _you_ sit and stare at me.”

“You can let me do that on a weekend,” Padmé said lightly, turning back around to the closet. She picked out a dress—purple sleeves, purple gown. The politician dress, Anakin knew. “But right now, we’ve both got other things to do.”

Anakin’s heart sank. “Right,” he said, standing up. He tugged on his pants. “Other things to do.” He looked at Padmé’s back. “Are you sure you want to go to the Senate Building by yourself? If something happens—”

“I won’t be alone,” Padmé said, slipping the dress over herself. She turned to Anakin, brushing her curls out of her face as she added, “And nothing will happen to me.”

“But—”

“Anakin,” Padmé repeated, walking towards him. She closed the distance between themselves and, tilting her head up to him, she smiled. “ _Nothing_ will happen to me.”

“There’s crazy people out there,” Anakin pointed out. “People who don’t care about your space—”

“There’s been crazier before,” Padmé replied lightly. “You’re acting like gossip columns and tabloids don’t exist.” She stood on the tips of her toes, brushed a strand of Anakin’s hair out of his face. And then she settled back down on her feet, her smile saddening for just the briefest of moments. She hadn’t meant to—Anakin knew that because when he reached down for her face, she looked surprised to find him looking down at her.

“You’re worried,” he said.

“So are you,” Padmé replied. She caught Anakin’s hand with her own. “But we both have to…take care of things from now on, don’t we?”

 _Take care of things_. That felt like an understatement.

But Anakin nodded. “If anything happens—”

“ _Ani_ —”

“If _anything happens_ ,” Anakin repeated, searching Padmé’s face, “call me. I’ll be there in a second.”

Padmé’s lips curled. “You don’t think your wife can handle a few senators?”

Anakin huffed a laugh. “No,” he replied, lowering their hands. “But I just think everyone needs reinforcements.” He paused. “And it would be helpful if that reinforcement was carrying a lightsaber…”

“You will _not_ scare the senators with your lightsaber,” Padmé said, lightly slapping Anakin’s chest.

“I’m just saying…”

“Anakin, _no_ —”

“Aggressive negotiations and all—”

“ _Stop—_ oh, you’re impossible—”

\--

Anakin found himself standing at the center of the Council chambers, unsure whether he should feel relieved or wary of the sudden summoning. Given the last few times he had been in the Council chamber, he settled on being wary.

Anakin knew the feeling was mutual as he surveyed the Council.

Yoda sat directly across from Anakin, Windu to his right and Ki-Adi-Mundi’s holographic form flickering to his left. Anakin tried not to focus on the fact that the seat Obi-Wan would have been sitting in was empty. He hadn’t received any word from him yet, nor had he received any news about Mandalore in particular. Anakin wondered if maybe the Council knew anything, and for a brief moment, he was tempted to ask, but something about the Council’s tense silence kept Anakin back.

 _That’s a new one_ , Anakin couldn’t help but think.

But then again, the Council meeting wasn’t supposed to be about him—it was supposed to be about the two children currently bothering Threepio back at the apartment. Anakin had looked down at them before leaving for the Temple, found them still sleeping. He had adjusted the blankets over Luke and Leia, rested his hands on their foreheads for just a moment before forcing himself out of the nursery.

And he had run through a dozen scenarios of what he would tell the Council when he stood before them: anything and everything varying in different degrees of “ _they’re_ my _children_ ” and “ _they’re different_ ” and “ _good luck with another two Skywalker-Amidalas_ _in the Order_ ”. The last part, Anakin figured with some mild amusement, was probably his most convincing defense. He tried to imagine Luke and Leia walking around the halls of the Temple, but all he could picture was their infant-selves playing amongst the chairs of the Council chamber.

“Find something amusing, do you?” Yoda asked.

Anakin blinked. Had he been smiling? He hoped he hadn’t.

“No, Master,” he said, banishing the image of Luke and Leia hiding behind Obi-Wan’s chair. “There’s nothing amusing about the situation.”

And there wasn’t, Anakin knew. The articles, even though fully removed now, were still bright in his mind. Bright in the way a fuse was right before the explosion hit. Something in him still twisted at the idea that there had been someone who had been close enough to take those pictures. Not just at the balcony, but _inside_ —

“Then you’re aware of the dangers to be discussed,” Shaak Ti said delicately. “The matter of your children’s abilities now open to the public, and there are more eyes on them.” Her eyes were unblinking as she added, “The absence of the articles have only increased the public...curiosity.”

“Padmé contacted most of the news sources,” Anakin said before he could stop himself. Saying his wife’s name out loud—just _Padmé_ , not _Senator Amidala_ or _the senator_ —felt strange, now that he was in the Council chambers. But Anakin continued, “Unless they want to be sued for more credits than they’re worth, there won’t be any more articles.”

But even saying those words, Anakin knew what everyone else was thinking—he knew because _he_ had been thinking the same thing too. And he knew Padmé had been thinking the same thing, because she had been the first one to tell him that “ _everything is about to change_ ”.

Erasing a few articles wasn’t going to erase the fact that Anakin and Padmé’s children were Force-sensitive, nor was it going to erase the fact that their marriage and their family was, in fact, still functioning, regardless of the Code mandates or the Senate rumors. Their quiet five months out of the eye of the public had vanished in just a few clicks of a camera somewhere.

“But people are now aware,” Plo Koon said broke in quietly. “And given the children’s abilities, there’s a need to take precautions. Threats will arise.”

Anakin opened his mouth, closed it. He remembered briefly hearing Plo Koon share his own story of finding Ahsoka—something about a slave trader posing as a Jedi before trying to snatch her away. The image of a three-year old Ahsoka backing away from a slave trader was enough to send chills up Anakin’s spine, but the idea of someone coming close enough to Luke and Leia—

“I’ll be ready,” Anakin said. “They’ll be safe.”

A silence.

Anakin had resented that silence ever since the first time he had come to the Council chambers, then as a nine year old boy, still trying to get used to the sudden brightness that was Coruscant. He resented that silence even now as the members of the Council shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Anakin again flicked his eyes over to Obi-Wan’s empty seat.

“You know the threat to your children as well as any one of us,” Shaak Ti said at last. “Here, they may—“

“The other children didn’t have a Jedi as a parent,” Anakin snapped.

“Yes, and because your children _do_ , they have more of a target painted on their backs.”

That twisting sensation in Anakin strengthened as he surveyed the Council. “Clearly,” he said, not caring about the edge in his voice, “you’ve made your decision already.” Anakin found that he wasn’t surprised at all.

Yoda’s eyes were steady and almost sympathetic as he looked at Anakin. “For the safety of your children, this we have suggested,” Yoda said. “Force you to give, we will not.” He tilted his head at Anakin. “A compromise, we may yet come to. Suggested such, Master Kenobi has.”

 _A compromise? Obi-Wan?_ Anakin blinked. He found the other Council members watching him, and then he looked back at Obi-Wan’s empty chair. _A compromise_ —Obi-Wan had been—

Obi-Wan had been fighting for him.

 _Of course he had,_ a small, guilty voice whispered at the back of Anakin’s head.

Anakin thought of how he had stormed away from Obi-Wan the other time he had been in this room, and he wished the floor would swallow him whole.

Still, he managed a stiff nod. “Is that all?” he asked.

Another shift amongst the Council members. Anakin was sure no one had ever dismissed themselves from a Council meeting before, but right now, this room was the last place Anakin wanted to be.

It was Windu who spoke at last.

“That is all, Skywalker,” he said.

Anakin managed a slight bow of his head, his ears slightly ringing from all that had transpired in the last few minutes. He lifted his head, and not quite seeing the other Council members, he turned around to make for the doors. They seemed far away, even though Anakin knew that they were really just steps from where he was.

Anakin wondered if Padmé was faring any better. At least there wouldn’t be any senators asking to take their children.

Anakin was only a step away from the doors before they slid open.

Anakin blinked.

“Ah, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said mildly. “There you are.”

Anakin’s lips parted. He felt too much at once—relief, mostly, followed by immediate confusion and concern because _what happened to Obi-Wan’s shoulder_ and _what happened to Obi-Wan’s ribs_ and _how is Obi-Wan standing_ , but then there was a huff from behind his former master, and a moment later, Ahsoka emerged next to him, one arm lightly wrapped around Obi-Wan’s other side.

“Ahsoka,” Anakin said. “What’re you—” His eyes dropped down to Ahsoka’s leg. “What _happened_ to you two?”

“Not much,” Ahsoka said, adjusting her grip on Obi-Wan. “Just here to make sure Master Kenobi doesn’t collapse in the middle of the debrief.” She craned her head over Anakin’s shoulder, and upon probably realizing that the rest of the Council was watching them, she gave a slight tilt of her head.

“If he’s going to collapse, he should be—” Anakin started, but Obi-Wan was shaking his head.

“I’m fine,” he said. “Really, this shouldn’t take too—”

“To the Halls of Healing you shall go, Master Kenobi,” Yoda’s stern voice came from behind Anakin. “Later, you will give your report.”

Anakin turned around to the Council. Their expressions were those of equal concern and some mild exasperation, some a little more guarded than others, but Anakin suddenly remembered other incidents in which similar things have happened. This was nothing new to the Council. This was familiar territory.

“Well,” Anakin said, turning around to Obi-Wan, who was half-slumped next to Ahsoka, “you heard the Council.”

“Don’t laugh,” Obi-Wan muttered as Anakin stepped around Obi-Wan’s other side.

“Me? Laugh at you? Never,” Anakin replied.

\--

Anakin couldn’t remember the last time he had been in the Halls of Healing, but the space was still familiar as Ahsoka and he walked Obi-Wan inside. And Vokara Che, despite the fact that she hadn’t seen Anakin _or_ Ahsoka in some time, didn’t so much as bat an eye as she took them in.

“Always you three,” she said, wearing that same slightly exasperated look that the Council members had been wearing. “What now?”

“Nothing too serious,” Obi-Wan managed. “Most of it was taken care of before—”

“Ribs,” Ahsoka reported. “Shoulder. Blaster. We put some bacta, but he’s not exactly good at keeping himself still,” she added. “Don’t scowl, Master Kenobi, you know it’s true.”

“Yes, well, there is also the matter of _your_ leg,” Obi-Wan fired back.

“Yes, but do you see how I’m walking on it? _I’m_ fine,” Ahsoka replied loftily.

“Nice try,” Anakin said. “You’re getting checked up, too.”

“I’m _fine_ —”

“She’s not,” Obi-Wan interrupted.

“Are you three _quite_ finished?” Master Che asked wearily. “Just sit down and let me work, please.”

Now fully chastised, the three sit down. Well, Anakin sat Obi-Wan and Ahsoka down and stood back up so Master Che could do her work in peace. In the meantime, he tried to gage out what exactly had happened on Mandalore. Now this close, Anakin could see the bruises both on Obi-Wan and Ahsoka’s faces, the smaller cuts and bruises at least over Ahsoka’s arms. Anakin suspected that if he pushed up Obi-Wan’s sleeves, he would find similar marks.

It was some time before Master Che finished—enough time that when she finally pulled away, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka were both sagging a little, the strength seeped out from their shoulders and backs from staying upright for Anakin didn’t know how long.

“Both of you will need to recover carefully,” Master Che said. “No pushing for _either_ of you. “

“Yes, Master,” Ahsoka and Obi-Wan murmured in unison, sounding so disgruntled that Anakin would have laughed had Master Che not been standing right there.

But then she left, and Anakin was alone with his friends.

“So,” Anakin started, but Obi-Wan was already speaking.

“You seem troubled,” Obi-Wan said, as though he wasn’t the one with a mangled shoulder and ribs.

“I’m not the one who just left Mandalore,” Anakin replied, sitting on the cot across from Obi-Wan and Ahsoka. He examined them and, after a beat, he asked, “What happened back there? Is…” He wasn’t quite sure how to finish that sentence, just in case—

“We were right about Bo-Katan’s message,” Ahsoka said, rolling her shoulders with a wince. “And Duchess Kryze is alive. Safe and sound.”

Anakin’s eyebrows shot up. He looked at Obi-Wan. “That’s great,” he said. “That’s— _wow_. Why didn’t we hear about this? Isn’t this—”

“It’s big news,” Ahsoka said. “Satine introduced herself to Mandalore and everything. But there’s some other things that need to be taken care of.” She perked up a little, adding, “Satine’s decided to open the planet up for help in the clone trooper programs. And…”

“She’s here,” Obi-Wan finished. “On Coruscant. She came back with us.”

Anakin raised his eyebrows again, but Obi-Wan was already continuing, “Under extra protection. Rex is giving the duchess a brief tour around the barracks as we speak.”

“And she’s here, so soon after showing herself to Mandalore?” Anakin asked.

Ahsoka shrugged. “She was intent on moving things as fast as possible. And besides,” she added, “Bo-Katan’s got things under control with the other administrative stuff. She’s a lot more organized than you think.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Anakin replied. He looked over Ahsoka and Obi-Wan again, adding, “But that doesn’t explain why you two are…like this.” He gestured.

“We ran into some trouble,” Obi-Wan said, as though he were talking about the weather. “Some of the remnants of Death Watch were hiding on Concordia. They were taken care of.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Anakin said, leaning back against the cot. “But how is Satine…you know. How is she?”

Ahsoka and Obi-Wan exchanged a look, and Anakin had the feeling there was much more to their brief trip to Mandalore than they were letting on.

“We…found some things,” Ahsoka said after a moment, her voice hushed. “Something that was responsible for bringing Satine back.” Her hand crept into the fold of her clothes, and a moment later, Anakin saw a small blue crystal glowing in her palm. He frowned at the way it gleamed under the lights, the strange…pulse that he could detect from it.

“A healing crystal?” he asked, looking up at Ahsoka and Obi-Wan’s faces.

“An old one,” Obi-Wan said. “Lying under the catacombs of the palace for who knows how long.”

Anakin looked incredulously at the crystal. “And _this_ was responsible for bringing the duchess back to life?” he asked. “I thought only Force-sensitive beings could use crystals. And there aren’t any…” He looked up at Obi-Wan and Ahsoka’s grim faces. “You think there’s someone out there?”

“Someone,” Obi-Wan replied. “Old enough and at least able to control enough of his or her own abilities to use the crystal.”

Anakin frowned. “But not a Jedi,” he said.

“I don’t think so,” Obi-Wan replied. “As far as I know, the Jedi haven’t been on Mandalore in years. At least, not in the time it took between Satine’s…” Obi-Wan’s voice drifted. “Resurrection,” he said after a beat too long. “And now.”

Anakin looked down at the glowing crystal in Ahsoka’s palm. “Someone Force-sensitive and without Jedi training,” he said slowly. “Able to do something like bring the duchess back. And we’re sure we don’t know who this person is?”

“Bo-Katan and Satine know,” Ahsoka said, closing her hand around the crystal and tucking it back into her clothes. “But they’re not telling us.”

Anakin blinked. “Why not?” he asked. “What if—”

“They seem to trust this person,” Obi-Wan said wearily. “And they seem to want to protect their identity. We cannot force the answer from them.”

“That wasn’t what I was going to suggest,” Anakin said. “But it’s…” He looked at where the crystal had been moments ago, mind reeling. Someone using a mere healing crystal to bring someone to _life_ —that power was something he hadn’t heard of from the Jedi. The only person who had ever even _entertained_ the idea—

A chill ran up Anakin’s spine. He abruptly shoved away the thought and found Ahsoka’s bright eyes.

 _Well, no,_ Anakin thought. That wasn’t entirely true. He had…done it once. Years ago. Only that had felt like something out a fever dream, something that he still wasn’t entirely sure was real—

“You two look exhausted,” Anakin said after a while. “Let’s get out of here.”

\--

“You realize we have our own places?” Ahsoka asked as she settled down on the bed in the guestroom. Obi-Wan was already half-asleep on the other side, despite protesting that he really wasn’t all that tired.

“Like you actually use it,” Anakin said lightly, perching himself on the opposite corner of the bed. He had Luke and Leia on his lap, both of them lightly wriggling against him. Leia clapped her hands upon seeing Ahsoka, and Anakin watched with some pride as Ahsoka scooped up his daughter without so much a second thought.

“You know you shouldn’t,” Anakin said. “If you’re tired—”

Ahsoka waved a hand. “I’m fine,” she said lightly. “It’s just my leg. And how can I say no to this cutie?” She smiled at Leia, bopping her nose with a finger. Leia giggled, her hands reaching up to tug Ahsoka’s lek.

“Okay, maybe not _that_ , missy,” Ahsoka said, holding up Leia so that her little hands wouldn’t grab hold. “You wouldn’t like it if someone pulled on your hair, would you?” She caught Anakin’s eyes over Leia, her smile widening. And for that second, Anakin could see Leia growing into a young girl, probably like Ahsoka herself, probably giving that similar smile up at him. He became more aware of Luke still crawling around his lap, picking at his fingers, and when he looked down at his son, he found bright blue eyes—so similar to his own, filled with an energy and a curiosity that Anakin briefly wondered had been present in his own when he had been born.

A pang went through him then—he wondered what his mother would probably say on seeing his children. Padmé and his children.

He had lost her. And he had thought he lost Obi-Wan once, and he had thought he lost Ahsoka when she walked away, and he had thought he was going to lose Padmé not too long ago.

He looked down at Luke and Leia. He wasn’t about to lose anyone else on his watch, especially not them. Never them.

“What’s wrong?” Ahsoka asked after a while. Her voice was soft. “You avoided Obi-Wan earlier today.”

“Did I?” Anakin asked distractedly. He pushed his hand up to the top of Luke’s head.

“You did,” Ahsoka replied. “You were speaking to the Council.” She bounced Leia on her good leg, playing absentmindedly with her dark tufts of hair.

“Yeah,” Anakin said, looking down at Luke. “I was.”

A silence.

“Was it about the kids?” Ahsoka asked.

Anakin jerked his head up, and Ahsoka gave him a sad smile.

After another beat, Anakin said, “The Council thinks it would be a good idea if I gave Luke and Leia over to them.” The words alone sent another chill through Anakin’s whole body, one that made him want to throw something across the room. He looked down at Luke, who was reaching for Leia.

“And what do you think?” Ahsoka asked.

“I don’t want to.”

Ahsoka nodded, as though she had expected that answer. She loosened her hold on Leia so she could more easily reach her brother. “Why did they ask? Why now?”

Anakin watched Luke and Leia settle on their bellies, their little bellies wiggling. They were getting ready to crawl soon, he knew. Right now, they just looked curiously at each other and patted the other’s arm. And then Luke let out a small cry as he lifted one of the baby toys to the air.

“Wow,” Ahsoka commented as the toy floated into Luke’s hands. As though sensing Ahsoka’s approval, Luke let out a small coo. She settled her hand on Luke’s head once, and looking up at Anakin, she asked, “Is it because of…this?”

“Not just that.”

Ahsoka lifted a brow. “What do you mean?”

Anakin’s chest tightened. “Someone took pictures of us,” he replied. “In here. Not _here_ ,” he added as Ahsoka’s head swiveled around. “But on the balcony. And in the living room.”

Ahsoka’s eyes widened. “How—”

“I don’t know,” Anakin muttered. “Padmé contacted the main distributors, and they took them down. I took care of the rest—you know, the ones that make it to those trash forums.” He curled his hand into a fist, settled it into his lap. “Padmé’s probably…”

“Padmé’s made out of tough stuff,” Ahsoka said quietly. “She’ll be okay. You guys will be okay.”

“I’m not going to let this ruin our family,” Anakin said. “I _can’t_ —”

“It _won’t_ ,” Ahsoka said. She reached over, rested a hand on Anakin’s arm. “Anakin.”

Anakin lifted his eyes to find Ahsoka’s small smile. “It _won’t_ ,” she repeated. “Okay?”

Anakin searched Ahsoka’s face. She was tired, and there were still bruises coloring her cheek, but her eyes were still bright and alert, filled with that tireless energy that had carried her from the first day they had met.

“You know,” Anakin said after a while, “I think you’ve grown up without telling me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” Ahsoka said, letting go of Anakin’s arm, “it’s a good thing that you’ve got new kids to watch grow up, isn’t it?”

Anakin looked down at Luke and Leia. The toy was fully floating between the two of them now, and identical smiles had spread across their small faces. Babies were too young to feel pride, Anakin had thought, but he could have sworn that smug smile on his children’s faces were just that.

“They’ll be okay,” Ahsoka said after some time.

“You think so?” Anakin asked. His voice came out quieter than he intended.

“I know so,” Ahsoka replied, flashing Anakin another smile—this one brighter, cockier, but still sincere. “And,” she added, “they have _all_ of us.” She brought her head down so that she was right beside Luke and Leia. “Do you think they’ll learn how to fly?”

And despite himself and despite everything, Anakin felt a smile tug at his lips. “I already told Padmé that I was going to get them in the air as soon as they’re able to walk and talk.”

“Great,” Ahsoka said. “I’ve got just the feeling that they’re going to be _excellent_ pilots.” She lifted her eyes up to Anakin, that grin still on her face.

Anakin grinned down at her, and he was about to answer when—

“For the love of all things good in this galaxy,” came Obi-Wan’s weary, slightly sleep-slurred voice, “do _not_ teach them how to fly until they’re at _least_ of age.”

At that, both Anakin and Ahsoka spun towards Obi-Wan, whose eyes were just barely cracked open.

“I thought you were sleeping,” Anakin said.

“I _was_ ,” Obi-Wan murmured, shutting his eyes. “But then I heard you and Ahsoka talking about teaching the twins how to fly _early_ —”

“Not early,” Anakin said lightly, scooting up on the bed. He picked up Luke, and Ahsoka picked up Leia. Without even needing to say anything, both Ahsoka and Anakin made their way to Obi-Wan, who only draped an arm over his eyes. Anakin grinned, lying himself flat next to Obi-Wan. “Don’t worry,” he said, setting Luke on his own stomach, “they’re going to be naturals.”

Obi-Wan lifted his arm from his eyes, tilting his head towards Anakin. And then Luke cooed.

“Oh, not you too,” Obi-Wan murmured, closing his eyes again.

Leia and Luke only babbled back at Obi-Wan.

“See?” Ahsoka said quietly from Anakin’s other side. Anakin turned his head towards her. She was balancing Leia on her own stomach, her hands playing with Leia’s. “They’re definitley yours and Padmé’s.” Eyes sparkling, she added, “They’ll be just fine.”

Anakin’s throat ached. He tried to think of the right things to say in response—but all he came up with was an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Not just for Ahsoka, but for Obi-Wan lying beside him, who had quietly taken Luke away and was now lecturing that “ _when you fly, you have better be careful and not be as reckless as your father_ —”

So Anakin turned his head back up to the ceiling.

“Thanks,” he said quietly.

Obi-Wan didn’t break from his quiet lecturing, and Ahsoka didn’t break from her playing with Leia, but Anakin knew that they both heard him. He knew because he felt the warm squeeze of a hand on his shoulder—Obi-Wan, who Anakin now realized hadn’t been asleep at all, but who had heard the entirety of the conversation from the start—and Ahsoka, who squeezed his arm again.

And though that strange cold feeling in Anakin didn’t entirely go away, he felt it melt a little bit. He decided that was a good thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I decided to give them a little breathing room. 
> 
> As always, comments/kudos/subscriptions are greatly appreciated!


	15. Chapter 15

After Satine had revealed herself to Mandalore, Ahsoka, Rex, and Obi-Wan had been led back to their guest rooms, where they had all promptly fallen asleep. Well, Ahsoka and Rex had slept—Obi-Wan had _tried_ to sleep. He wound up pacing the room in slow circles instead, hoping that might tire him out enough, but it didn’t.

When the sun had risen, Obi-Wan had managed to only close his eyes for maybe an hour, maybe more. And then Ahsoka and Rex and he had been making their way back to the throne room, ready to make their final departures, and that had been when Satine and Bo-Katan had told them their next steps.

“We understand it’s a bit soon,” Satine had said to Obi-Wan’s forehead, “but given the information I’ve received about the newest developments in galactic politics, it seems I have to take care of this first.”

And that had been that. They had gotten on the ship, and Obi-Wan had tried to pilot themselves out, but Ahsoka had frustratingly taken over the controls first. “You should get some sleep,” she had said without looking at Obi-Wan.

“I did,” Obi-Wan replied.

Ahsoka had only shot him a sidelong glance. “Rex?” she had called.

“Yes?”

“Do you mind co-piloting?”

“Of course not,” Rex replied, shooting Obi-Wan a semi-apologetic smile. Terrible, the two of them were.

But he walked out, only to run into Satine.

“Apologies—”

“I was just—”

They both tried to walk around each other: Obi-Wan to the left, Satine to the left. They stopped, and then Obi-Wan shifted to the right, and Satine went right along with him. They stopped again, and then Satine cleared her throat. “I’ll—” She gestured time Obi-Wan’s left.

“Right,” Obi-Wan said, and he had stepped aside, gone in the opposite direction.

That was the only interaction they’d had over the course of the trip back to Coruscant.

Obi-Wan tried to sleep again—and failed again.

He tried to contact Anakin, only to be told by Threepio that Anakin wasn’t available. And neither was Padmé. Obi-Wan’s heart had skipped several beats at that, and he was ready to ask Threepio where the Skywalker-Amidalas _were_ , if not at the apartment, but then Threepio had gotten distracted by the twins, and the transmission had shorted out.

He tried to get some sleep after _that_ , but he wondered where Anakin and Padmé were—

And then the ship had landed, and Obi-Wan had found Satine speaking quietly to Rex. He only caught a few words—the rest was muddled out by the faint buzzing in his head, and then Satine had looked at him briefly, pressed her lips together into a wan smile before resuming her conversation with Rex.

“You look terrible,” Ahsoka had said, coming up next to Obi-Wan.

“You’re not much better,” Obi-Wan replied, observing the slight limp in her gait.

“I’m not the one who got shot in the ribs.”

“I’m—” Obi-Wan had stopped himself, forced himself to take a breath. “Go home. I’ll debrief with the Council, and—”

“Looking like that?” Ahsoka had asked, and before Obi-Wan could argue, Satine and Rex had come up to them again. Obi-Wan vaguely heard something about Satine going off with Rex to observe the barracks and greet the troopers, but he also noticed that a few strands of Satine’s hair had come loose, and she brushed it back only once.

And then Satine and Rex had gone in one direction, and Obi-Wan and Ahsoka had gone in the other.

And when Obi-Wan had seen Anakin in the Council chambers, he wasn’t entirely sure whether to be relieved or worried about why he was _here_ —because on the one hand, Anakin was safe and hadn’t gotten into any clear trouble, but on the other…he had seen the look on Anakin’s face and felt the fear and anxiety lying underneath and knew that something was wrong.

And he had been confirmed that there was, indeed, something wrong, because he had heard Anakin and Ahsoka speaking softly about _the children_ and _pictures_ and _can’t let this ruin the family_.

Obi-Wan was glad that Ahsoka had been the one to speak to Anakin—he was glad when he saw her rest a hand on his arm and say words that he knew only she could properly convince Anakin with. He had seen something on Anakin’s face soften just the slightest, and while Obi-Wan was _glad_ , there was something else that rugged at Obi-Wan’s chest. Not jealousy—Obi-Wan refuses to call that feeling in his chest something like that, but there was a strange pain at how simple Anakin and Ahsoka’s exchanges were. No need to feel _free_ of something, Obi-Wan knew.

So he had pretended. Played his part (“ _do_ not _teach them how to fly until they’re at_ least _of age_ ”), and he had pretended he hadn’t heard or seen as much as he had, because he knew that the topic of the disturbing photos would come up later in conversation, although Obi-Wan couldn’t help but wonder if Anakin would ever tell him about his worries about his family as he had with Ahsoka.

Obi-Wan didn’t remember falling asleep after that—all he knew was that he had been quietly, only half-seriously telling Luke to be careful when flying, and then he was waking up to the sound of quiet laughter and clattering pans.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes to bright light drifting into the room. His whole body felt stiff, and his arms shook slightly as he propped himself up on the bed. He supported himself on one arm, swiped at his hand with the other hand. His mouth tasted stale too, his throat dry.

Obi-Wan pushes himself completely off the bed, took a few slow steps around the room to ease the dull throb of waking in his head. The laughter grew louder from outside the room, and then the door opened.

“Good, you’re awake,” Ahsoka said cheerfully, eyes bright. “Lunch is ready.”

“Lunch?” Obi-Wan glanced at the chronometer, which declared that it was a few hours past noon—which meant that he had been sleeping for at least five hours.

“Late lunch,” Ahsoka admitted. “Come on.”

So Obi-Wan followed Ahsoka out of the room in the direction of the noise.

They found Anakin setting the table, alternating between talking to Luke and Leia. “Just because your mom grew up with a bunch of handmaidens doesn’t mean you’re not going to do your own chores,” he was saying to Luke and Leia. “Okay? We’ll make it fun though. Maybe make it a race? Does that sound like a good idea?”

Luke and Leia only slapped their hands against their highchairs.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Anakin said, setting down the last plate.

Ahsoka and Obi-Wan looked at each other. Ahsoka was smiling, and Obi-Wan found that he was, too.

Ahsoka looked up then. “Well, look who’s up,” he said. “Slept well?”

Obi-Wan nodded. “Were there any—”

“Nothing’s exploded, and the Council hasn’t combusted,” Anakin said matter-of-factory. He swung a dish towel over his shoulder, looking so ridiculously casual that Obi-Wan almost would have believed that just a few hours ago, he hadn’t been whispering about how someone had taken photos of his family. “It’s almost like the galaxy’s telling you something.”

“Very funny, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, sitting down in the chair Anakin had pulled out for him.

Anakin grinned and tugged out a chair for Ahsoka, who plopped down with about as much grace as she could muster with her leg.

“Did you get some rest?” Obi-Wan asked Ahsoka as they dug into their food.

“I was out of it for a few hours,” Ahsoka replied with a sheepish smile.

“Which is fine,” Anakin said pointedly. “The galaxy isn’t going to blow to pieces just because you two decided to take a nap.”

“You’re one to talk,” Obi-Wan said lightly.

“Full-time parent, slightly different,” Anakin replied, just as lightly.

“So the bottom line is that we all need to sleep,” Ahsoka cut in. She cut into her food and, taking a bite, she added, “But I probably _should_ check my messages. Rex is probably done showing the duchess around the barracks by now…and I probably have some other updates from the Senate to check in on with the clones affairs…” Her voice drifted, her brow already creasing.

Anakin was frowning too. “You can’t be the only one handling all that work,” he said.

Ahsoka blinked, and aware of both Anakin and Obi-Wan looking at her, she shrugged quickly. “It’s okay,” she said. “Rex and I split up most of the work. And we’ve got other people in the 501st and the 212th involved, and some people in the Senate backing us up—like Padmé and Senator Organa and some of their friends.”

Anakin pressed his lips together. “You know,” he said, “I could lend you Threepio—he’s good at that admin stuff—”

“It’s _fine—_ ”

Before Ahsoka could keep speaking, her holoprojector beeped. “It’s fine,” she repeated, turning away the call. She set the holoprojector down on the kitchen counter and turned back around to Anakin and Obi-Wan. “See? I’ll take it later. I know what I’m doing.” She smiled at both of them, but when she sat down, Obi-Wan noticed the slight squaring in her shoulders.

Obi-Wan knew Anakin wanted to say more, and _he_ wanted to say more, but then there was the clatter of a cup, and everyone turned to find Leia floating a small glass over to her brother.

“ _Leia, no_ —” Anakin snatched the glass out of the air and set it back down on the table. “Not kitchen stuff, okay?”

And then they were going back to eating and making sure that Luke and Leia didn’t try floating any kitchen utensils or plates or cups after that. They managed a laugh or two, but Obi-Wan still had the strange feeling that no one had particularly felt like laughing.

—

Rex visited just as they were clearing the table.

“How were the barracks?” Ahsoka asked now, passing Anakin an empty plate.

“Fine,” Rex replied, his eyes wrinkling a little at the slight smile he gave Ahsoka. “Nothing imploded while we were gone.” He flicked his eyes once at Obi-Wan, and, clearing his throat, he added, “And the duchess is back to the apartments, with double the security.”

“Has she gone out in public since returning to the barracks?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Not so far,” Rex replied. “I don’t think she plans to—not right away. She was insistent on still keeping somewhat disguised when we left.”

“She probably wants to go out on her own terms,” Ahsoka mused. “There’ll still be—” Before she could finish, her holoprojector beeped again from the counter, but she ignored it. “There’ll still be things we need to prepare for. In the meantime, we should probably start opening up more communication with the other senators—I know Senator Organa and Senator a Chuchi were more than willing to make an appointment with us. And—”

Ahsoka’s holoprojector beeped again, and Ahsoka sighed. “Just give me a second,” she said, and she reached over for the holoprojector still sitting on the counter. Obi-Wan noticed that slight squaring of her shoulders again, but she turned it on. “Hello?”

“You have an incoming call from the Republic Judiciary Central Detention Center. Do you wish to collect—”

“No,” Ahsoka said, and she turned off the holoprojector, clattering it down to the table. Like and Leia both jumped, startled, and Anakin frowned, pushing himself away from the counter.

“Why is the detention center—”

“It’s just a scam call,” Ahsoka said. Her hand was resting over the holoprojector, fingers curled around the edges. “That’s all.”

Everyone was quiet.

And then Anakin said, “You wanted me to fix the holoprojector at your place. Does it have something to do with…this?” He gestured at the holoprojector in her hand. And then Obi-Wan remembered another occasion, a different meal that felt like years ago now—one when Ahsoka had also gotten a similar call but dismissed it with the same tight shoulders.

“No. Yes.” Ahsoka’s knuckles had gone white from squeezing the holoprojector so hard. And then Obi-Wan reached over, curled her fingers away from the device. To his relief, Ahsoka let him, and then Obi-Wan held up the holoprojector.

“You know who’s calling you,” Obi-Wan said, looking at Ahsoka. Trying to catch her eye.

She looked up. Not quite up. Her eyes could reach his easily. And her silence was all the confirmation Obi-Wan needed to know that he had guessed correctly. And judging by the way her eyes dropped back down to the ground, Obi-Wan knew that she herself had known for a long time. A pang went through Obi-Wan’s chest. How long—

“Who?” Anakin asked. His brows were furrowed, the look in his eyes distant and confused. “Ahsoka—”

“It’s okay,” Ahsoka said, holding out her palm. “I’ll…talk about it later.”

Obi-Wan dropped the holoprojector into her hand, and she tucked it away in the folds of her clothes. Obi-Wan could see Anakin’s stunned expression still, even as Ahsoka gave them what Obi-Wan knew had to be her best attempt at a reassuring smile.

“It’s okay,” Ahsoka repeated. “I just need to take care of something.”

“ _What_ do you need to take care of?” Anakin asked. “You know I can—”

“No,” Ahsoka said. “It’s not something you can…do. Just me.” Her voice dipped for a moment, and then she lifted her head, shooting Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Rex a quick smile.

And Obi-Wan suddenly wondered if he himself had looked that frustrating on Mandalore.

“Ahsoka,” he said at last. “Who’s calling you?”

A silence.

And then Ahsoka straightened herself. “Barriss Offee,” she said. “She wants to talk.”

—

“Why didn’t she tell us?” Anakin asked. He had Leia on his lap; Luke had crawled into Obi-Wan’s. “If she’d been getting calls from _Barriss_ , then she should have— _I_ could have—”

“She wanted to think about her options,” Obi-Wan said, sitting Luke up in his lap. “Her situation is…a delicate one.”

“What’s so delicate about it?” Anakin asked abruptly, snapping his head up. “Barriss _framed_ her. How can Ahsoka just—why didn’t she _tell us?_ And how can she just… _go back_ there?”

Obi-Wan frowned down at Luke’s tufts of blond hair. Ahsoka had walked out of the apartment shortly after telling everyone the news of Barriss Offee’s calls. She had looked tired. “I just need to get this over with,” Ahsoka had said. “That’s all.” And Anakin had started to protest, but Ahsoka was already shaking her head. “Don’t worry about me,” she had said with a brave little smile. “I’ll be fine.”

And just like that, Ahsoka had left, and Rex had followed her. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if Rex was planning on going to the detention center with Ahsoka, but he hoped he would. Rex was steady—steadier than Anakin at least, who had looked like he had been slapped across the face.

“I think,” Obi-Wan said quietly, “Ahsoka had been asking herself the same question for some time.”

Anakin’s jaw set. “She shouldn’t have gone back there,” he muttered. “Or she should have at least said something

Obi-Wan thought of Anakin’s quiet murmurs to Ahsoka about the photos. And then he thought of a different time, this time sitting in this exact same apartment, with Anakin saying the exact same words— _you could have told me._

“She didn’t want to worry you,” Obi-Wan said quietly. “She didn’t want to worry anyone.”

“ _Why?_ ” Anakin asked, lifting his head. He looked at Obi-Wan, brows still furrowed. “You saw her. She can’t just face this _alone_. That’s why she has _us_.”

They locked eyes with each other—and after a moment, Obi-Wan realized that neither of them were just talking about Ahsoka anymore.

“Anakin.”

“The Council thinks it’d be a good idea to have the children trained at the Temple,” Anakin said. “And I said I didn’t want to. And Master Yoda—he told me that you—” Anakin’s face twisted, and Obi-Wan realized that it wasn’t anger or resentment on his friend’s face now, but—

“I didn’t know you were…trying to compromise for me,” Anakin said, looking down. “I didn’t know that you were just—”

“Anakin—”

“I’m sorry,” Anakin said, looking back up.

Obi-Wan stopped. Anakin was looking at him with wide eyes— _pained eyes_ , Obi-Wan recognized dimly, and then Anakin’s shoulders were sinking, giving up, as he added, “The last few days— _weeks_ —I kept thinking that all this time you…” His voice drifted into silence, his eyes downcast.

Obi-Wan’s chest tightened. “ _Anakin_.”

“I know it’s stupid now,” Anakin said quickly, roughly. “So I’m sorry. Even before—I know you’ve been at my side since day _one_ , and I haven’t…appreciated that. Not as I should.”

Obi-Wan looked down at Luke. The child had started squirming a little in his grip, as though sensing the seriousness of the conversation. Now Obi-Wan wondered if the child actually could—it was more than likely at this point.

“I am sorry as well,” Obi-Wan said at last, looking to Anakin.

Anakin stiffened, his eyes searching as Obi-Wan continued, “We’ve had difficulties in the past. And you have had reasons to doubt me—”

“Likewise,” Anakin said. “But Obi-Wan, you don’t have to—”

“Yes, I do,” Obi-Wan said, sighing at the ground. He turned to Anakin again. “Fourteen years, you know. We’ve known each other for that long.”

“You would think we’d be better at this by now,” Anakin said, a huff of a halfhearted laugh leaving his lips.

“You would think,” Obi-Wan replied, mirroring his weary smile.

They looked at each other and ducked their heads back down.

And then, quietly: “I might have overheard you speaking to Ahsoka earlier today. About the photos.”

Anakin blinked. “We thought you were asleep.”

“I wasn’t—not really…”

“Oh.” And then, after a pause, Anakin said, “I was going to tell you later.”

Obi-Wan blinked. “You were?”

“Well, you _did_ just get back from Mandalore…and you _did_ just get shot twice—”

“Ah.” Obi-Wan blinked again. “Yes.”

“Did you think…” Anakin frowned. “That I _wouldn’t_ tell you?”

“You _do_ value your privacy,” Obi-Wan said slowly, carefully.

“Oh.” Now it was Anakin’s turn to blink. “Right. I…” A pleat if wrinkles appeared between Anakin’s brows.

“I’m not trying to make you feel _guilty_ , Anakin,” Obi-Wan said quickly. “There are only times when you might feel more comfortable speaking with—”

“I know,” Anakin said. He shifted a little, adjusting Leia on his lap. Leia tugged at Anakin’s tunic in response, clearly not wanting to be moved. “Sorry, sorry,” he said, and then he looked up at Obi-Wan again. “But I am, you know.” He paused. “Comfortable speaking with you. Even if—what I’m trying to say,” Anakin huffed, “is just—fourteen years and all.” He shifted a little bit again, letting Leia crawl off his lap. And then, quieter: “We’ll get better at this, right?”

“Which part?” Obi-Wan asked, looking down at Luke and Leia. “The childbearing part or the—”

“ _Us_. The _us_ part,” Anakin replied.

Obi-Wan looked back up at Anakin. He was smiling sheepishly, shyly.

 _And so things are changing again,_ Obi-Wan couldn’t help but think.

So Obi-Wan smiled back. He reached for AnakinMs arm, round their hands tangling together instead. Obi-Wan was surprised—and yet he also wasn’t, not really—to find how familiar he was with the callouses and grooves of Anakin’s hand.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said. “We will.”

For a moment, the two smiled at each other, and Obi-Wan was about to suggest they find some better way to entertain the poor twins when the holoprojector chimed.

“Ahsoka?” Obi-Wan asked as they looked to the holoprojector sitting in the coffee table.

“Maybe,” Anakin said, glancing at the chronometer. “But that would be pretty quick.”

“Perhaps,” Obi-Wan said. “But given who she was speaking with…”

“Good point,” Anakin muttered. He let Leia down on the couch and turned on the holoprojector.

An instant later, Padmé’s flickering form sprang from the device. “Anakin,” she said, obviously relieved—even from her blue image, Obi-Wan could tell that the young Senator was drained, her eyes a little too wide and her hands clutches tightly in front of herself.

“Padmé,” Anakin said. “Are you okay? Is everything—”

“I’m fine,” Padmé said quickly. “Mostly. But—there’s been…Anakin, have the others returned from Mandalore?”

“Yes,” Anakin said, glancing over at Obi-Wan. “Obi-Wan’s here with me. Ahsoka and Rex went to the detention center—”

“Why are they—”

“Ahsoka got a call from Barriss Offee.”

Padmé’s face seemed to whiten in the already pale blue light she was washed in. “She got a call from _Barriss? Now?_ ”

“What do you mean, now?” Obi-Wan asked, inching himself into the view of the holoprojector. “What’s wrong?”

Padmé looked lost. It was a foreign look on her, and Obi-Wan felt a chill run up his spine. Luke and Leia let our plaintive cries, as though they could sense their mother’s distress even from this apartment.

“Everything,” Padmé said quietly. “ _Everything’s_ wrong.” Her eyes lifted to Anakin and Obi-Wan. “The news are making the worst of it, but we can fix this—”

Before Obi-Wan or Padmé could say anything, Anakin was already grabbing the remote and directing it to the holotelevision.

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure where to look first, because there were so many written lines in the _Breaking News_ banners for him to navigate. But then he heard the present anchorman’s booming voice: “ _how can we expect these clone troopers to become citizens of the Republic when they’ve got these killing chips in their heads? Is this what we imagined peacetime to be?_ ”

“ _That’s right,_ ” another anchorman was saying via split screen. “ _And let’s just entertain the possibility of deactivating these chips—the Republic has, what, hundreds of thousands of clones? And each of them with this chip? Imagine the cost to deactivate them_ all _—is_ this _what taxpayer credits supposed to go to? Now? Every world in the Republic already has enough on their plates, and if the Senate or Tano’s and Commander Rex’s task force thinks that it’s going to cover the costs, then they’ve got another thing coming_.”

Laughter from both anchormen, and Obi-Wan felt the flare of anger from Anakin even without looking at him.

“Idiots,” Anakin was seething. “They don’t even _know_ —”

“It’s not good,” Padmé was saying. “And the chips—but there’s more—”

“ _More?_ ” Anakin and Obi-Wan said in unison, and is in response, the anchorman was already moving on to the next topic—

“ _And speaking of another thing coming, Duchess Satine Kryze is reportedly alive_ ,” one of the anchormen was saying, and Obi-Wan watched in horror as a blurry picture of Satine was blown up on the screen. She was standing with Rex—the two of them had been walking out of the barracks. “ _We’re still waiting to hear word back from what Bo-Katan Kryze has to say on the matter—_ ”

“ _But that’s not all_ ,” the opposite anchorman cut in almost giddily. “ _Because ladies and gentlemen, it has also been recently confirmed that Duchess Satine Kryze has had other secrets hidden up here sleeves._ ”

“ _Or in her hair_ ,” the other anchorman guffawed.

“ _That’s right_ ,” the opposite anchorman repeated. “ _Just now confirmed by an anonymous source, it seems that Duchess Satine Kryze has always had an heir_. _A_ direct _heir._ ”

“What’s that supposed to—” Anakin started, but the anchormen were already continuing.

“ _Korkie Kryze_ ,” the first anchorman said, and this time, there was absolute silence in the living room as an image of a young man with auburn and sunshine-colored looks filled the screen. Bright blue eyes, lips quirked into a shy smile.

Obi-Wan felt something tug at his chest. He knew those eyes, and he knew that smile. He knew that _face,_ and there was something so—

“ _Handsome fellow, isn’t he?_ ” the opposite anchorman said casually. “ _And you know, Ross, I can’t help but wonder who has to be the father of this young man. Korkie Kryze was claimed to be a nephew, but he bears no relation to the duchess’ sister—and Duchess Kryze has never reportedly had any romantic partners, but…well, the age and the appearance certainly matches up to a particular—_ ”

The screen went blank.

Anakin looked at Obi-Wan, stricken.

“We’re going to do everything we can do to take care of this,” Padmé was saying. “In the meantime, we need to make sure the duchess is age, and Ahsoka and Rex and the clones—”

“The clones,” Obi-Wan said, pushing past the swirling in his head. “If civilians get the wrong idea—”

“We’re working on it,” Padmé said. “We’ve been trying to contact Ahsoka and Rex, but if they’re in the detention center…”

“We’ll take care of it,” Anakin said, determined. “Padmé, just—” His voice dropped. “Stay safe. Come home.”

“I can’t—not right now,” Padmé replied. “There’s too much going on here. I’ll get back eventually, but for now…” She flicked her eyes between Anakin and Obi-Wan. “Just do the best you can,” she said simply.

After goodbyes had been exchanged and Padmé’s hologram form had flickered out, Anakin looked at Obi-Wan.

“Obi-Wan…?” Anakin’s voice was quiet. “Are you…”

But Obi-Wan was far away. He could still see that young man’s—a _young man_ —face flickering before him, and then he saw Satine and Bo-Katan exchanging a quiet, knowing look. They had wanted to protect someone, Obi-Wan remembered dully. They had wanted to keep this person out of sight, and now…

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin said again. A hand on his arm.

Obi-Wan swallowed. “We should try contacting Ahsoka and Rex,” he said. “And the clone commanders.”

Anakin hesitated, and then he nodded. “I’ll try the detention center’s comms,” he said slowly, dropping his hand from Obi-Wan’d arm. “And you can…”

But Obi-Wan was already working the communicator.

And then Anakin asked quietly, “Are you okay?”

Obi-Wan made the mistake of looking at Anakin.

Who was watching him intently, eyebrows furrowed, deep blue eyes searching.

“No,” Obi-Wan said at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone! if you’re following me on tumblr, you would know that my power was out—my power’s still back on, but we don’t have any Internet, so I had to re-type this chapter on my phone, so I’m sorry if there are any typos! (Which I will fix once I actually get proper Internet back.) 
> 
> As always, comments/kudos/subscriptions are greatly appreciated!


	16. Chapter 16

Ahsoka hated going to the Detention Center. She had only gone a few times—once to meet with Ziro the Hutt way back when she was still a Padawan, and then the other few times, she had been at the more high-security section of the Detention Center either to be framed for murder or when she had been stowed away as a criminal herself. Even now, standing in front of the grey doors of the high-security section, Ahsoka felt an unwelcome chill run up her spine.

“You don’t have to be here,” Ahsoka said at last, turning around to Rex. Ahsoka tried for a smile, but she found it faltering too easily. “You’re probably exhausted.”

“So are you,” Rex replied.

Ahsoka _was_ exhausted. She had taken that brief nap at Anakin’s place, but even that nap had felt weak. She wanted to sleep for days.

“I am,” Ahsoka admitted at last. “But I have the feeling that if I don’t get this over with now, then I’ll just have to suffer through another week of calls to my holoprojector. And besides,” she said with an exaggerated sigh, “after surviving just some mild near-death experiences, I think a conversation with…”

Ahsoka cleared her throat and looked back at Rex. “It’ll be okay,” she said after a little while. “I’ve survived worse.”

“I know,” Rex replied. He nodded to the door. “So are we doing this?”

Ahsoka didn’t know whether to push Rex away or hug him. She would have settled for both.

“Are you sure?” she asked at last.

“Are _you_ sure?”

“Not really,” Ahsoka admitted. Then, bracing back her shoulders, she pushed open the doors.

\--

The walk down to Barriss’ cell was longer than Ahsoka expected. The guards only nodded at Ahsoka before turning around to lead her down the hallways. Ahsoka and Rex passed a number of cells, of them blocked by identical dark doors with nothing but a small window of red ray shield. Ahsoka could feel multiple presences in these hallways—but not the angry presences that she had felt when she would go to the common cells. There, she would feel a seething resentment for the guards, the Jedi, the Republic—

There was resentment here too, but Ahsoka felt that it was…oddly muted. Simmering, but not boiling. Just barely glowing under the otherwise cold, creeping emptiness that seemed to seep through the ray shields and into the hallway itself.

Ahsoka looked into some of the ray shields, wondering if she would find any other familiar faces, but no one neared the ray shield. They wouldn’t, Ahsoka knew. Because if they were here—and they would be here for a long, long time, Ahsoka knew that they would probably be crouched at the far end of their cell, heads bowed, waiting for whatever end was to come for them.

Another chill ran up Ahsoka’s spine.

A part of her wanted to turn around then. To walk out of this hallway and then out of this building and go up to the surface where she could look into the remaining work for the task force. Or she could be babysitting Luke and Leia right now—or she could be helping Anakin find out whoever had been taking those terrible photos of the family. She could be making sure Obi-Wan wasn’t straining himself again, or she could be contacting Duchess Satine about her trip to the barracks, or she could be going to Padmé’s office right now, asking for both her wisdom and her concerns regarding the recent violation in privacy.

She could be going to literally any one of them right now, but she was here.

“We’re here,” the guard in front of her said, slowing his step.

Ahsoka came to a stop behind him. A dark door, identical to all the other ones, loomed before her. An identical ray-shielded square of a window drilled into the top third of the door.

Ahsoka’s breath caught.

And then she felt a warm hand on her shoulder, tugging her back down to the ground.

“We don’t have to be here,” Rex said quietly. “Say the word, and we can leave.”

Ahsoka swallowed, her eyes still trained on that window.

But then she lifted her hand to Rex’s, her fingers knocking against his. She didn’t think Rex expected her light touch back—she could feel the slight surprise there, but he didn’t pull away. Ahsoka didn’t think he would, anyways.

She tilted her head back to look at Rex. She found warm eyes, steady eyes.

“Ma’am?” the guard asked from in front of Ahsoka.

“You’ll be right by me?” Ahsoka asked Rex. Her voice came out smaller than she expected.

Rex smiled. “Yeah, kid,” he replied. “Right behind you.”

Ahsoka swallowed. “Thank you,” she said, and she wasn’t just talking about being in this place. She squeezed Rex’s fingers again, hoping that he knew what she was really thanking him for.

Rex’s little nod was all the confirmation she needed.

So Ahsoka turned back around to the guard and said, “You can open the door.”

The guard nodded and turned to the keypad sitting in the area next to the door. Ahsoka and Rex pointedly looked away, stepping away from each other as the rest of the code was punched in. Ahsoka found herself looking at the cell opposite the one they were standing next to: another red ray shielded window, another dark door.

And then Ahsoka heard the rush of the door open behind her, and then the guard said, “We’ve split the room in half for you, but if you run into any trouble, just give a shout.”

“Thank you,” Ahsoka said, nodding to the guard.

And with that, she walked down the steps to the cell, aware of Rex’s steps behind her.

But then even those sounds faded away as Ahsoka came closer and closer to the red ray shield wall dividing the room. Ahsoka came to a stop, and she forced her hands behind herself. Clasped them together, forced her expression to be still as she found herself staring at the person on the other side of the ray shield.

She looked older, Ahsoka noticed right away. Features a little more worn, her skin a shade paler than the olive tones Ahsoka remembered. Eyes a little bigger, cheeks a little thinner. Ahsoka thought she saw a dark curl poking out from underneath her head covering, but when Ahsoka blinked, it was just more shadows.

“You came,” Barriss said at last, and Ahsoka was surprised to find that her voice sounded almost exactly the same as the last time she had heard her voice. And Ahsoka suddenly felt like she was standing on trial again—staring not at Barriss now, but up at the Chancellor as judgement was being passed—

“Only because you wouldn’t stop calling,” Ahsoka said flatly. She tugged her hand away from her back, pretended to examine her nails when really, she was just trying to focus on something other than the fact that Barriss was looking at her in the same way she had before she had been dragged away by the Temple guards. “I only have a few minutes,” Ahsoka lied, still staring down at her nails. “So whatever you have to say, you might as well make it quick.”

At first, Barriss didn’t speak. Ahsoka could feel Barriss’ eyes still trained on her, and she felt something else—something that Ahsoka found she wanted to shove away, because she didn’t _need_ it—

“Great talk,” Ahsoka said, dropping her hand to her side. “Is that all?”

“I didn’t actually think you would come,” Barriss said. “After the first time, I thought that…”

“If you didn’t think I would actually _come_ ,” Ahsoka said coolly, “then you wouldn’t have kept calling me, would you?”

“Can you blame me for trying?”

“Yes,” Ahsoka replied, forcing herself to maintain her gaze at Barriss. “I can, actually. So what do you want?”

Another silence. Ahsoka was ready to sigh, turn around, call the meeting over, when Barriss said, “I heard that the war is finally over. It’s been over for a few months now, isn’t it?” At Ahsoka’s incredulous look, Barriss said, “News is a little slow to come by here.”

“The war’s over,” Ahsoka replied, refusing to acknowledge the second half of Barriss’ comment. Chose to ignore it because well, she knew that part too, didn’t she? When _she_ was stuck in a high-security cell, Ahsoka hadn’t known about anything or anyone outside of the four walls. She hadn’t even known that Anakin had tried to visit her, and she hadn’t known that the Jedi Order and the Senate were debating what to do with her.

Too fast—she was delving back into bad memories too fast, and Ahsoka needed to reel herself out.

“It’s been over for five months, actually,” Ahsoka said, forcing her voice to remain level.

“And how is peacetime treating you?” Barriss asked. “Peacekeeping must be a much different task for you, now that the war is no longer the Jedi’s top priority.” Her voice was casual enough, surprisingly nothing bitter or malicious in it, but Ahsoka still found something in herself flinching backwards, curling inwards.

“I wouldn’t know about the Jedi’s perspective,” Ahsoka said at last. “Not right now.”

Barriss’ brows furrowed—confusion. Real confusion.

Of course she would be confused—it wasn’t like Ahsoka’s leaving the Order was exactly headlining news. Not for the main reaches of Coruscant, anyways. Maybe some of the military, and certainly the Council and a few other higher members of the Order, and maybe some rumors trickled down to even the younglings, but to the cells of the Detention Center? Doubtful.

“You left,” Barriss said. Her eyes flicked past Ahsoka—to Rex. “But you still played your part in the end, I assume.”

“Is there a point to this?” Ahsoka asked.

Barriss blinked. And then, dropping her eyes to her lap, she murmured, “I suppose there isn’t.”

“Well, if that’s all…”

Barriss’ head jerked up. “What? No—” She stood up quickly, and Ahsoka realized that Barriss was no longer taller than her. If anything, Ahsoka was pretty sure she was the taller one now, but she decided not to linger on that. “Ahsoka,” Barriss said, lifting a slender hand. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“And we’re talking,” Ahsoka said.

“No, I wanted to _talk_ to you,” Barriss repeated. “I wanted to…” Her eyes dropped again. “When I heard the war was over, I had the feeling you would be involved somehow, and I thought that now that we’re in peacetime…” She lifted her head to Ahsoka. “I thought perhaps we could discuss things. Since what happened.”

“Since you framed me for murder and bombing the Temple,” Ahsoka said, unable to keep the words tumbling out of her mouth. That surprised her more than she thought it would—the iciness still edged in her voice, the iciness that she couldn’t quite rein in. And Ahsoka heard her own words come out faster than she anticipated: “People discuss battle strategies and what their weekly plans are. People don’t _discuss_ whatever—”

“That was a poor phrasing of my words,” Barriss said. “I meant that I wanted to apologize.”

Ahsoka’s blood turned into ice. Everything about her was turning into ice, from her words to her blood to her bones. She could feel some part of her solidifying, cracking under the sudden pressure in the cell.

“Apologize,” Ahsoka repeated.

“Yes,” Barriss said quietly. “I know my apology is late, but I had hoped that this time might be better than never.”

Ahsoka stared.

“Ahsoka?” Barriss asked quietly.

The cell was too small.

“Ahsoka?” Barriss. Again.

“You don’t get to decide,” Ahsoka said at last. She looked at Barriss. Tried to look at her. But she found that her eyes kept sliding past Barriss, past Barriss’ shoulder. She swallowed. “You don’t get to decide when I listen. Ever.”

And then she turned around, and then she was pushing past Rex, walking up the steps of the cell. Leaving Barriss behind.

\--

Ahsoka’s head was still ringing when she walked out of the building. She wanted it to stop. She should probably make it stop. But her head was ringing, and she could still see feel Barriss’ eyes boring into her, and she heard Barriss’ voice again: “ _I wanted to apologize_.”

An apology. Barriss thought she could give Ahsoka an apology after _everything she did_ —

She had thought she was ready for this. Ahsoka had thought she could walk into the cell, take whatever Barriss had to say, and walk out without so much of a blink. She had done harder things before. She had been kidnapped and beaten and faced so much loss and so much hurt, but she had survived all of that. She had led a siege. She had survived _so much_ , so this shouldn’t be as _nearly_ as difficult, because—

Ahsoka’s holoprojector beeped, and for a second, Ahsoka thought that she was being called—no, _requested_ —by Barriss again, and Ahsoka was wondering if she should just smash the holoprojector right here and now when she tugged it out of her utility belt. She tightened her grip over the stupid thing.

She didn’t even know Rex had caught up to her until she felt the holoprojector being tugged out of her fingers.

“It’s—” Ahsoka started, but Rex turned off the holoprojector.

“Noisy thing,” was his only comment as he handed it back to her.

Ahsoka tried to smile. And she almost succeeded too. She felt the corners of her lips twitch upwards, but then she was bowing her head, and she wasn’t trying anymore.

“C’mon, kid,” Rex said at last, directing Ahsoka to the speeder. “Let’s get out of here.”

Ahsoka lifted her head as Rex slid into the driver’s seat of the speeder. “You know I can drive.”

“Yeah,” Rex said, starting up the speeder. “But I’ve got the feeling driving’s the last thing on your mind right now.”

Ahsoka slipped into the passenger seat. And then they were lifting up into the air, a cool breeze fluttering over their faces as they rose higher and higher, away from the detention center.

And then they were off, and Ahsoka didn’t look back at the building as they sped back towards the center of Coruscant.

And they were quiet. Ahsoka caught Rex looking at her a few times, but he didn’t say anything, and Ahsoka wasn’t sure she wanted to say anything either. She rested her elbow against the side of the speeder, rested her chin there as she watched other speeders fly past. She was tired, and her leg was starting to hurt again, even though she knew that Master Che’s healing had taken care of most of the pain. A flare of stress, that was what it was.

Ahsoka wanted to laugh at that. Would have laughed at that. Just a few hours ago, she had been the one scolding Obi-Wan for straining himself, and here she was…

But she had been quick. She had just wanted _that_ conversation to be over with. Get things done with Barriss, tie it up with a neat little bow and just be _done_.

And she had _thought_ she was done. She had thought that she had made her peace with everything that Barriss had done to her. The lying, the scheming, the betrayal. She had thought…but she had also avoided all of Barriss’ calls. She had shut out any good memories she had of Barriss left.

Ahsoka sank her head lower against her arm. Willed herself to shut out this memory too.

She was too busy for this, anyways. She could go back to her life with the task force and the twins and maybe, just maybe rejoining the Order. If she could rejoin the Order. If she would still be willing to go through with that, given Barriss’ fingerprints all over Ahsoka’s memory…

The sudden screech of speeders coming to an abrupt stop was what jolted Ahsoka out of her own thoughts. She heard their own speeder protest as Rex came to a halt.

“What…” Ahsoka began, but Rex was looking up at one of the large news screens hovering near the upcoming intersection.

Bewildered, Ahsoka looked to the screen.

And then she heard the next few words: _killing chips—hundreds of thousands of clones—she’s got another thing coming._

Ahsoka heard Rex swear.

Ahsoka only stared up at the news screen, at the anchormen who were going on about chips implanted in the clone troopers’ heads—chips to kill—how was Ahsoka and the taskforce planning on deactivating the chips in a timely and affordable fashion—

But the news wasn’t finished, because then the anchormen were turning to other news: _Duchess Satine Kryze is reportedly alive, Korkie Kryze_ —

“ _And you know, Ross, I can’t help but wonder who has to be the father of this young man. Duchess Kryze has never reportedly had any romantic partners, but…well, the age and the appearance certainly matches up to a particular_ _general, don’t you think?_ ”

Ahsoka wasn’t sure who swore this time: Rex or herself.

They looked at each other.

“You don’t think…” Rex started, but he was interrupted by a chime. His comm.

Rex and Ahsoka looked at each other again.

And then Rex hit the comm. “Commander Rex speaking,” he said.

“ _Rex!_ ” Anakin’s voice came crackling through, and even through the interference, Ahsoka could hear the relief in his voice. “Great. Where are you? And Ahsoka? Are you guys—”

“We’re both right here,” Rex said, glancing at Ahsoka and then at the news screen. There were already a few speeders starting forward again, but all around them was the distant hum and buzz of people already spreading, discussing the news. “Um, sir, we’ve just seen some…”

“Yeah, I know,” Anakin said grimly. “It’s…”

 _Not good_ , Ahsoka thought.

“We’ll figure something out,” Anakin said.

But before Ahsoka could respond, there was shouting from down below. Ahsoka peered over the edge of the speeder and saw a familiar tattooed head dodging a curled fist— _Jesse_ , and Ahsoka wondered with a twist in her stomach if there were other civilians looking at clone troopers right now, ready to run away or pick a fight or—

 _Killing chips_ , Ahsoka thought, shooting the screens a glare. _Of course they had to say_ killing _chips_ —

“What’s going on?” Anakin’s voice crackled over the comm again.

“Trouble,” Ahsoka replied grimly. She looked at Rex, but he was already looking down too, his face a stony mask as he gathered the sight of what was happening below.

“Guys—”

“In a minute,” Ahsoka said, shutting off the comm. She knew Anakin would be furious at her later, but right now, she was already standing up, ready to pitch herself off the edge of the speeder when Rex yanked her back down.

“Belt yourself in,” was all Rex said.

Ahsoka only had a second to click the buckle into place when their speeder was pitching forward into a steep dive, right down to where Jesse was still dodging the drunken blows of a red-faced human. Ahsoka heard some shouting, and even though she couldn’t quite make out the words, she could tell from Jesse’s panicked expression that things were not going at all as he had expected. His hands were slightly raised in a placating gesture, but the man wasn’t having any of it.

“Jesse!” Rex bellowed from beside Ahsoka.

Jesse looked up once, relief flooding his face. Ahsoka stuck out her hand, and in a flash, she had hoisted Jesse over to the back of the speeder.

“Great timing, Commanders,” Jesse said weakly, sitting up as they sped away from the still-shouting drunk. “It was getting ugly. And also…” He looked up at the news screens. “What the _hell_ was that about? What were they _talking_ about?”

Ahsoka cast a sidelong glance at Rex. His jaw had set, his grip tight on the controls.

“We’re still trying to figure that out,” Ahsoka decided to say. She looked down at the streets. “In the meantime though, just keep your eyes peeled for any more trouble.” Her heart sank as she saw the flash of white armor ducking away from not one, but two angry-sounding Rodians. She had a feeling that the next few hours would be long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments/kudos/subscriptions are greatly appreciated!


	17. Chapter 17

" _No_."

Anakin slowly glanced back at where the news had been playing just moments ago. There were still too many things and too many words ringing around his head: the clones, the duchess, and then…the heir. Anakin vaguely remembered the boy, back when he had to drop Ahsoka off to Mandalore. But back then, he hadn't thought _too_ much on it, mostly because he had been more concerned with the fact that his apprentice very obviously was reluctant to teach a cluster of cadets who weren't that much older than herself.

"I can contact Ahsoka and Rex instead," Anakin said at last. "And you can contact…" Another memory flashed through his mind: running through the halls of a ship, an alarm blaring overhead. A light, teasing comment, and Obi-Wan shouting after him that _she's not my_ —

"Whoever you need to," Anakin said lamely. He stood up.

"You don't have to—"

"There's a communicator in the other room," Anakin said over his shoulder. He gestured towards the holoprojector sitting on the coffee table. "It's all yours."

—

Anakin returned to the living room to catch just the barest snippets of Obi-Wan and Satine's conversation. They were speaking quietly, even over holoprojector. Anakin made out Satine's bowed head, and for a second, Anakin could only marvel at how it _was_ the duchess, and that was _her_ voice, but then he heard Obi-Wan say something. Anakin couldn't quite make out all the words save for " _stay safe_ ".

And when Satine's blue form flickered away, Anakin saw Obi-Wan's head dip slightly, his shoulders round over briefly. He looked alone.

So Anakin pushed himself into the room, settled down on the couch next to Obi-Wan.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said, straightening. He swiped a hand over his face. "Are Ahsoka and Rex…"

"They got distracted by something," Anakin replied, even though he had wanted to ask Obi-Wan questions first. But then Anakin wondered if he even knew which questions he would ask first: _how are you_ and _are you okay_ and _is she okay_ and _did you two talk_ all seemed to blur together. So Anakin just kept talking instead. "But I think they'll get here soon."

"Good," Obi-Wan said. He rolled his shoulders back. "The duchess is also secured. She was already back at her apartment by the time the news broke. She's preparing a statement as we speak…and I think she's about to reach Padmé."

"That's good," Anakin said.

"Yes," Obi-Wan agreed.

There was some silence.

Anakin pushed the holoprojector farther down the table, even though he knew he didn't have to. He fidgeted once with the thing, waited a heartbeat before asking, "Did you two…discuss anything else?"

Anakin risked a glance backwards.

Obi-Wan was looking away. "We didn't get the chance," he said after a while. "I suspect we'll discuss things later."

A part of Anakin wanted to ask more questions—and yet another memory flashed through his mind, this time one of being in a lift, another question being asked, Obi-Wan's flushed face, Anakin smothering a little smirk to himself.

Anakin couldn't quite bring himself to ask any questions now, because Obi-Wan looked alone.

"Okay," Anakin said. He pushed himself off the couch. He moved into the kitchen, took out a kettle. He shuffled around the kitchen, dragging out a mug. And then, after a moment of hesitation, he grabbed a few more mugs. He had a feeling that everyone would need it.

"What are you doing?" Obi-Wan asked at last. Anakin heard the rustle of robes, quiet footsteps coming his way.

"Tea," Anakin replied. He glanced over at Obi-Wan.

"Tea," Obi-Wan repeated. "Anakin—"

"I got this," Anakin said, waving a hand. "Just sit down."

Obi-Wan hesitated, and then he slipped to the seat closest to Anakin—a stool at the island. He set his hands on the surface, and Anakin felt his former master's eyes follow him as he filled the kettle with water, turned up the heat.

"What?" Anakin asked after a while.

"You never were much of a tea drinker."

"No," Anakin replied. He turned around, leaned against the opposite side of the island. "But Padmé does, from time to time. And we have to be prepared whenever you come over, don't we?" He was relieved to see the faintest twitch of a smile on Obi-Wan's lips.

"And to think," Obi-Wan said, shifting his elbows onto the island. "That you couldn't surprise me anymore."

"As if," Anakin replied lightly, turning back around to the kettle. "Of course we would stock up for you."

A pause, and then, quietly: "Thank you."

Anakin knew Obi-Wan wasn't just talking about the tea, but he found that he still didn't quite expect those words. _We'll get better at this_ , he had said just a little while ago. That felt like hours ago. _The_ us _part._

Anakin turned around a little bit, just enough to catch Obi-Wan looking at him.

"You're welcome," Anakin said.

—

The Skywalker-Amidala residence had never been this quiet before with this many people—and by _this many people_ , Anakin really just meant Ahsoka, Rex, Obi-Wan, the twins, and himself. But no one was speaking. No baby babbling, just the occasional sigh from Luke or Leia. A slight creak of a chair as someone shifted in their seat.

"Well," Anakin said, just as Ahsoka asked, "How did all of that information leak?"

Anakin looked at her. She had her hands wrapped around the mug Anakin had given her, her face set in a frown. "The inhibitor chips, Duchess Kryze…" Anakin noticed that she didn't mention Korkie. She looked around the table, her brows furrowed. "All of that intel just rushed out at once. That can't be a coincidence."

"It's obvious," Obi-Wan said from beside Anakin. His eyes were on the mug, his hand loosely gripping the handle. "Someone is trying to disrupt the rebuilding process of the Republic. Cast as much doubt as they possibly can." He pushed aside the mug, flicked his eyes up to Anakin. "And I suspect it started with those released images."

Anakin's throat dried. "You think…"

"It has to be related," Obi-Wan said, crossing his arms. "Your marriage with Senator Amidala was news enough, but images of your children…" He glanced over to Luke and Leia, who blinked back at Obi-Wan with a solemnity that sent a shiver up Anakin's spine.

"And the inhibitor chips," Rex said dully. "That's obvious why someone would want to let that little secret slip out." He rubbed at his temples absentmindedly, and noticing what he was doing, Rex hastily dropped his hand to his lap.

"The chips were never taken out?" Anakin asked.

"Things have been slow," Ahsoka said. Her eyes were downcast. She pressed her lips together. "And you heard that idiot news anchor—he had _a_ point. Deactivating all the chips in _every single_ clone trooper in a short amount of time would be a medical feat. And there was also the matter of trying to get our other programs up and running…" Her brows furrowed. "I don't think too many worlds would have been excited to offer up places for clone troopers if they knew that there was something like a chip coming into play."

Fair, but Anakin knew that Ahsoka and Rex were both regretting the decision now. He hated those dejected expressions on their faces. He hated the people who had mocked the attempts being made for the clone troopers, and he hated that they were in a situation like this in the first place.

"Well," Anakin said, "those chips can't cause any harm right now, right? There haven't been any…" He tried to search for the right word. "Incidents."

"No," Rex replied. "But we're going to have to take care of it faster now. In case…" His voice drifted, and a shudder seemed to run through everyone's bodies.

"That won't happen," Anakin said decidedly. "So we just speed up the process with deactivating the chips. Right?"

Another silence.

"It will take time," Obi-Wan said. "Perhaps more time than the public would be comfortable with." He looked to Ahsoka and Rex. "But that will be something that cannot be helped."

They lapsed back into quiet.

"How are the others?" Anakin asked at last. "Did you—"

"A minor scare," Rex replied. "Not the first time most of them had seen an angry mob." His words were factual, but that slight flicker in his face told Anakin the unfinished rest of the sentence: _but not this_. "Or angry politicians looking for…answers."

Anakin's chest tightened. He peered out the windows in the direction of the Senate Building. Padmé had said that she would take care of things from her end, but the day was growing darker, and he still hadn't heard back from her since she had made that first call.

Anakin found that he wasn't the only one looking to the Senate Building—he saw the slight tilt of Obi-Wan's head toward the windows, the crease between his eyebrows, and not for the first time since the news broke out, Anakin wondered what exactly was going through his former master's mind. There had been the initial shock—the numb, and then Obi-Wan had been mentioning contacting Ahsoka and Rex first—

Anakin glanced over at Ahsoka and Rex. Ahsoka had been watching them both, Anakin realized. She looked tired. They all looked tired, Anakin figured, but even despite it all, Ahsoka nudged her head towards Obi-Wan. A silent question.

Anakin turned back to Obi-Wan, but he wasn't looking at the Senate Building anymore.

"There _will_ be support to keep the clone troopers safe," Obi-Wan said, his hands resting on the table. "You two have garnered enough alliances and support thus far—quiet support, perhaps, but enough to speed up any legislation in the long term." Words of hope, that was what Obi-Wan was giving now, despite everything.

A small nod from both Ahsoka and Rex—a small smile, but better than nothing.

"In the meantime," Ahsoka said, turning to Rex, "we'll have to get some more information on exactly how much time it'll take for all of the chips to be deactivated. And some kind of system to deactivate them all efficiently." A wry smile. "Are you ready for some more research?"

"The Archives might have some resources," Obi-Wan suggested.

Ahsoka nodded. "That'll be one place to start," she said.

"And a revisit to the Kaminoans' confessions," Rex said, rubbing a hand over his head. "Should make for an interesting…couple of days."

"Understatement of the millennium," Anakin muttered, which was followed by halfhearted murmurs and mumbles of agreement, shifts and scrapes of the chairs against the floor as everyone mulled over the chaos of the last few hours.

"And…what about Duchess Satine?" Ahsoka asked, nudging her mug forward. "Has she been contacted yet?"

Anakin glanced at Obi-Wan.

"She has," Obi-Wan replied. "She's safe for the time being. Getting ready to face the…outbursts."

A nod from everyone else around the table.

And that was that.

* * *

Anakin found Ahsoka standing at the edge of the balcony, mug sitting in her hands.

"Mind if I join you?" Anakin asked.

Ahsoka looked up, gave him a weary smile. "Of course," she said.

And for a while, they stood together at the edge of the balcony, their elbows bumping against each other as they watched speeders pass by. Anakin wondered if there were still photographers lingering nearby, and he wondered if that should be their signal to walk back inside, but Anakin dismissed that quickly.

 _Go ahead_ , Anakin thought sourly. He would replace the pictures with something nastier than a loth cat if he saw any more photos posted. But then again, he figured that there had been enough news today. He glanced back into the apartment, where Rex and Obi-Wan were quietly talking over data pads, while Luke and Leia tugged at their clothes.

Anakin turned back around to Ahsoka. She wasn't quite looking at the speeders or the buildings or anything, which was how Anakin knew that he was going to have to ask what he was going to ask next.

"How was…your visit?" Anakin asked, squeezing a hand around his mug. "To the Detention Center?"

A silence.

And then, pushing out a sigh, Ahsoka replied, "Strange. And…" She scratched the surface of the mug with a fingernail. "Strange," she repeated.

"What did she want?"

Ahsoka's lips twitched, but not in the direction of a happy smile. Anakin found that he was the one who felt strange now, seeing that different sort of expression on Ahsoka's face. "To apologize," she said.

Anakin tried to imagine Barriss Offee apologizing in front of Ahsoka. Tried to imagine Ahsoka's expression: but all Anakin could see was Ahsoka's stunned expression when he had first brought Barriss into the courtroom. He remembered Ahsoka's widening eyes, the too-soft voice when she had asked of the truth.

Looking at Ahsoka now, Anakin had the feeling that this encounter hadn't gone too well.

"And," Ahsoka said, dropping her hand from the mug, "I couldn't last two minutes in there." Her hand curled inwards—not into a fist, but into a half-raised steeple against the balcony ledge. Her eyes had drifted down to her knuckles. There was no shock left there, not the kind that had filled them when Barriss had first been marched into the courtroom. Just a blank, empty kind of hurt that Anakin knew didn't belong there.

"Ahsoka—"

"Is that strange?" Ahsoka asked, lifting her head. Her eyes to Anakin. "That I couldn't…" She frowned, her brows furrowed. "I know I'm supposed to be _compassionate_ —"

"Who says you're supposed to be?" Anakin asked, and Ahsoka blinked, and for a moment, she looked caught off-guard, and then oddly guilty, but before Anakin could further decipher her expression, she bowed her head.

Anakin leaned against the balcony ledge. He looked down at her hand. Her knuckles had paled—they hadn't gone white, but still.

"I thought I could handle it," Ahsoka said after a while. "I really, really thought I could." Her voice wavered at the end for a moment—the briefest of wobbles before she closed her eyes, lowered her head slightly.

Anakin's chest tightened. "Ahsoka…" He set a hand on her shoulder, and then Ahsoka was turning around to face him. Her eyes were open this time, and though Anakin saw the pain there, Ahsoka's chin remained lifted, the expression on her face still trying so hard to maintain its defiance. Anakin told himself that he had seen that look before, but it seemed different now. Felt different in the way that made Anakin wonder yet again how Ahsoka had grown up without telling him.

So that led Anakin to his next words: "What are you going to do now?"

That felt strange—asking a question instead of telling Ahsoka what to do.

Ahsoka lowered her head a little bit. Then she looked back up at Anakin, pressed her lips together. "I want to do the right thing," she said. "I'm just trying to figure that part out."

 _The right thing_.

Ahsoka lowered her head. She closed her eyes once, reopened them. Lifted her head back up at Anakin, and this time, some of that defiance on her face had melted away, leaving behind the faintest glimmer of the younger Padawan she used to be. "Do you think I can do that?"

Anakin stared down at Ahsoka. "The right thing?" he asked.

Ahsoka hesitated, nodded.

Anakin felt a corner of his lips twitch. He squeezed Ahsoka's shoulder. "That's not even a question," he said.

But Ahsoka didn't smile back, so Anakin ducked his head down a little, just so that it was easier to make eye-contact with his former apprentice. "Ahsoka, come on."

Ahsoka's eyes moved up to Anakin.

Anakin smiled. "You'll do the right thing," he said. "Whatever you choose to do—it'll be right because you _chose_."

Ahsoka hesitated. Anakin could tell she wanted to say something—so he asked, "What is it?"

"Nothing," Ahsoka said, and her lips quirked into a familiar halfhearted smirk-smile. "You've just changed a little."

Anakin blinked. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Choosing," Ahsoka said. She poked Anakin in the chest. "I didn't think you really liked all my choices before."

"That's true," Anakin said, eyeing the place where Ahsoka's silka beads used to hang. He looked back at Ahsoka's face and said, "But you've changed a little too, you know. And I already told you that."

Ahsoka's face softened. "Yeah," she said. She poked Anakin in the chest again. "It's kind of new, isn't it? This? Us?"

Anakin caught Ahsoka's finger before she could poke him again. Ahsoka gave him a smile that was more like herself, and Anakin realized that even if some things changed, there were still some things that would stay the same.

"Not entirely," Anakin said. He dropped Ahsoka's finger from himself and slung an arm around Ahsoka's shoulders instead.

"Ouch—Anakin—"

"Sorry, was that your leg?"

"Yeah—"

"Sorry—"

Ahsoka huffed, but a moment later, her head was on Anakin's shoulder.

They were like that for some time.  
  


—

Padmé came back to the apartment long after everyone else had fallen asleep—well, everyone except Anakin, who almost flew out of his perch in the living room when he heard the door open. _Almost_ because both Obi-Wan and Rex started to stir from their sleep, and for an instant, Anakin felt like he was calming down the twins instead of his friends. (" _Sh_ , _go back to sleep, go back to sleep_ —" And miraculously, they _did_ fall back asleep, while Ahsoka and the actual twins remained dead to the world.)

And now Anakin enfolded Padmé into his arms, felt her settle her head against his chest and her hands tug him closer. He heard her quiet breaths, the slight tremble in them.

So they stood by the door, Anakin by the door and breathing in his wife and knowing that Padmé was doing the same.

"It's bad," Padmé whispered at last.

Anakin glanced backwards at his friends still scattered in the living room. And then he remembered that Obi-Wan had said that he had heard Ahsoka and his own conversation earlier that day, and remembering that both Obi-Wan and Rex had so easily wakened, Anakin shifted his head to the bedroom.

Padmé caught Anakin's gesture and nodded. They both padded over to the bedroom, hands never leaving each other's.

When the door closed behind themselves, Padmé let out what Anakin wondered was her first real breath.

"Satine will be making her own formal statement tomorrow morning," she said. "And Chancellor Mothma has already started her urge for the senators and civilians to stay calm in regards to the clones." Padmé sat down on the bed, pain tightening her features. "She's already utilizing some of the information Ahsoka and Rex had sent her before this whole…mess. About the actual nature of the inhibitor chips, the limits to them."

"The limits," Anakin repeated.

"As far as Ahsoka and Rex know—and as far as the Kaminoans know," Padmé said, "the inhibitor chips weren't actually directed at…civilians."

No, the chips were meant to execute Jedi, and Anakin wasn't sure if that trade-off made anyone feel any better, but still, if that was what it took to calm down even a small percentage of the Coruscant population and the politicians…

"What else?" Anakin asked. "Were there any other updates?"

"No more scandalous secrets, if that's what you're asking," Padmé said wearily. She undid her hair, letting the dark locks spill over her shoulders. She looked up at Anakin. "How were the others?"

Anakin thought about the events of the day. He felt like this whole day had just been a whole year, smashed into one rotation.

"Well, they're all here," Anakin said. "Which is the important thing."

"I noticed," Padmé said, a small smile tugging at her lips. Anakin was glad to see that smile. Padmé pushed herself off the bed. "You know we have guest rooms, don't you?"

"I know," Anakin replied. "But they just…all fell asleep there. And I didn't know if I should disturb them." He gave Padmé a semi-bashful look. "Besides, it's not like this is the first time."

"Yes," Padmé agreed. "But I think they all deserve to sleep in actual beds tonight, don't you think?"

"Couldn't agree more," Anakin replied. "But if one of them can't go back to sleep…"

Padmé only rolled her eyes, but Anakin knew that she was glad for this light moment—just this brief, light moment that reminded Anakin too much of their own stolen moments back when the war was ongoing.

 _But there is no war,_ Anakin told himself as he trailed after Padmé. _The war is over._

"Come on," Anakin said now, nudging Obi-Wan awake.

Obi-Wan sleepily opened his eyes, blinked up at Anakin a few times. "'kin—"

"Bed," Anakin only said.

Obi-Wan nodded, but his eyes were already drifting shut.

Anakin smirked. He heard Padmé waking Rex—saw Rex's own bewildered, almost embarrassed expression as he took in what was happening around him. ("It's fine, Rex, let's just get you somewhere a little more comfortable…" "Yes, ma'am." "You know you don't have to call me ma'am." A short laugh.)

Anakin flashed Rex a quick smile at that, caught Rex's own sheepish grin back.

It took a few trips and a few mumbled apologies from everyone before Anakin and Padmé had bussed everyone into a real bed. And then there were some more whispered apologies as Anakin and Padmé scooped up the twins, who had started to fuss at the sudden noise.

But the twins were quiet now, sleeping in the cribs that Anakin had half-dragged, half-levitated into their bedroom.

Padmé slipped into bed a moment later, her slightly shower-damp hair tickling against Anakin's cheek.

And Anakin wanted to tell her about everything that had happened today: the Council meeting and the healing crystal and Ahsoka's encounter with Barriss and everyone sitting around the kitchen table with the tea and too many questions to ask, but when Padmé rolled right into his arms, Anakin found that he was too tired to say anything at all.

And Padmé was, too.

Tomorrow would come tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your girl's classes are about to start in two days (now officially a junior in college what who allowed this to happen), but I promise that updates will still be regular, since I still have a few chapters pre-written. (I'm not too worried about staying on top of updates though. COVID has definitely limited what I can do both on and off campus, and I know I'm going to be escaping into fic when I'm not writing my endless piles of term papers.)
> 
> As always, comments/kudos/subscriptions are greatly appreciated!


	18. Chapter 18

The pale form of Satine flickering on the holoprojector.

Obi-Wan, looking for the words to say.

He came up with some: _they know_ and _are you alright?_ and _stay safe_.

And she came up with some words for him: _I know_ and _I’m fine_ and _you too_.

A rush of words, a quiet silence, and then Satine being tugged away to her apartment, Obi-Wan tugged back by the sound of Anakin’s footsteps.

And then more silence.

\--

Obi-Wan rolled over in bed to come face-to-face with Anakin.

Well, not quite face-to-face. Anakin was crouched at the side of the bed, his chin resting on his folded hands. When realizing that Obi-Wan had woken up, Anakin smiled. “Morning.”

Obi-Wan blinked a few times, becoming more and more aware of the morning light. And then, swiping at his face, Obi-Wan asked, not caring if his voice was slightly muffled by his hand, “How long have you been sitting there?”

“Ten minutes and twenty-seven seconds.”

“You didn’t count the seconds.”

“Sure did.”

Obi-Wan started to sit up. He rolled his shoulders—tried to. His shoulder was still stiff from where it had been shot, but it was less painful than yesterday. He reached up, gave it a quick massage as he turned to look at Anakin. “Are the others awake?” He vaguely remembered Anakin dragging him off the couch, guiding him to the bedroom. Padmé’s soft laughter. She must have returned late…

“Ahsoka and Rex left with Padmé,” Anakin replied. “Trying to get a head start on stabilizing the politics.”

Obi-Wan blinked. “They left already?” he asked, and then he glanced at the chronometer. “ _Anakin_ —”

“Look, you don’t have to do any debriefing until later,” Anakin said, standing up. “And the Council hasn’t called, so—”

“The Council hasn’t called,” Obi-Wan said, throwing off the blankets and swinging his feet down to the ground, “or did you just block all of the calls?”

Anakin let out a huff of a laugh. “No, I didn’t block their calls. I don’t think I can, even if I really wanted to.” He leaned back against the wall, his hands tucked behind himself. He lowered his head to Obi-Wan, and then, after an added beat, he said, “Padmé told me that Duchess Satine plans on giving her statement today too—it might be airing in a few minutes, actually.”

“A…smart move,” Obi-Wan said, standing up. He smoothed down his clothes, looked at Anakin. “I’m sure the news will have quite the exciting run with this.”

“Probably,” Anakin replied. He shifted a little bit against the wall, and when neither man moved, Anakin finally asked, “Yesterday, when I asked how you were okay…” He shifted again, and Obi-Wan had the feeling he knew where this conversation was going to go. Because he had been wondering about the same conversation himself—he had tried imagining having the conversation with whichever face he could conjure. He always ended those phantom conversations with himself losing his own words, but Anakin was watching Obi-Wan with a careful look that had been perfected over the course of fourteen years.

“I said I wasn’t,” Obi-Wan finished.

“Yeah.” Anakin tilted his head lightly, just enough for it to loll a little towards his shoulder. But his eyes remained on Obi-Wan, that deep blue intent, searching. Obi-Wan waited one moment, two, and then Anakin said at last, “So I have to ask…”

Even though Obi-Wan knew what was coming next, he didn’t quite expect that strange little twist in his chest when Anakin asked, “Do you think Korkie’s really…” He didn’t finish his sentence.

Obi-Wan saw the boy’s face flash before himself again: the bright eyes, the hair, even that smile. Korkie couldn’t have been that much older than Ahsoka: maybe sixteen, maybe seventeen years old. And judging by that timing...

“It is possible,” Obi-Wan said slowly. “More than possible.”

A silence.

And then, quietly, Anakin said, “She didn’t tell you. If he really is—she didn’t mention anything about it to you.”

“No.”

Another silence.

“Do you think he’s…like us?” Anakin asked.

And yet that was another piece that Obi-Wan was still trying to decipher: he saw Satine and Bo-Katan’s careful glances at each other again, and Obi-Wan wondered how much Bo-Katan had known. Still knew. And then he remembered those same looks again, a glowing crystal sitting in Ahsoka’s palm. _Only someone Force-sensitive could use this crystal…_

“If he is who I think he is,” Obi-Wan said slowly, “then he has to be.”

“And who do you think he is?” Anakin asked.

Obi-Wan looked at Anakin. “The healing crystal,” he said simply. “Only the Force-sensitive are able to harness its energy. And if Satine and Bo-Katan were trying to keep the identity secret…”

“You think it’s Korkie,” Anakin said. “And if it _is_ Korkie, and if Korkie _is_...”

“I don’t know of any Force sensitivity in Satine’s lineage,” Obi-Wan said with a dry smile. The smile felt wrong. “So that certainly narrows down the possibilities, doesn’t it?”

“I guess it does,” Anakin replied. He pushed himself off the wall. “When you spoke with Satine yesterday, did you two mention…”

“No,” Obi-Wan replied. “We were…more concerned with what would be coming later today.” He glanced at the chronometer, even though he didn’t know what time Satine would be giving the statement. Anakin had said a few minutes, and a few minutes had passed.

“Right,” Anakin said, though Obi-Wan noticed that slight flicker of confusion on his face. But then Anakin was gesturing out the bedroom. “Breakfast? And if you want to watch the statement…”

Obi-Wan considered turning down the second part of the offer. He could perfectly see Satine standing before the Senate, her chin lifted in that defiant way of hers, blue eyes flashing even in the hollower light of the holograms. He didn’t need a viewing screen to know what Satine would look like when she gave her statement, but Obi-Wan nodded anyways because—

“Alright,” Anakin said. He gestured out the door.

And so Obi-Wan followed Anakin out to the hallway, down to the main living quarters of the apartment. Obi-Wan eyed the dishes that were already piled in the sink, but Anakin didn’t seem to mind. Anakin walked over to the stove, said over his shoulder, “Oatmeal or eggs?”

“Either one,” Obi-Wan said, sitting down on the couch. He watched Anakin take out a bag of oats from the cupboard, turn on the stove. There was something familiar about Anakin’s movements, and not just because Obi-Wan had watched him in the kitchen before. But Anakin moved around with ease, and Obi-Wan suddenly could see Anakin doing the exact same thing years from now, only this time with Luke and Leia coming back from school. And then Obi-Wan realized that he couldn’t imagine Luke and Leia away from Anakin or Padmé at all.

He suddenly could see the twins as older versions of themselves: Luke, with a tangle of blond curls and Leia, with her inquisitive dark eyes, and the two of them hopping up to the kitchen island with words spilling over the other as they tried to get their father’s attention first. The image came so clearly and sharply to Obi-Wan that he almost couldn’t entertain any other possibility.

 _And neither can he_ , Obi-Wan realized, watching Anakin move around the kitchen.

Anakin tossed Obi-Wan a look over his shoulder. “What?”

“Are you happy?”

Obi-Wan didn’t know how long he had meant to ask that question until he had asked it. And he hadn’t known how long he had been wanting an answer from Anakin himself until Anakin stopped to look at him—fully look at him, with his entire body turned Obi-Wan’s way—now.

“Like…” Anakin’s voice drifted, his eyebrows inching towards his hairline. “At this exact moment, or…?”

“Not at this exact moment,” Obi-Wan replied. “But are you…happy—in general. Here.”

A silence.

“Yeah,” Anakin said at last. “I’m happy here. I mean…” He let out a short laugh, turning back to the stove. “Right now isn’t exactly an ideal situation, with all the news and the politics, but mostly…” He lifted a shoulder, gave Obi-Wan something that was a cross between a frown and a puzzled smile. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure. “Where’s this coming from?”

“No real reason,” Obi-Wan replied, even though he could see other futures, other possibilities flash through his mind: Luke and Leia, probably underneath a speeder with Anakin. Padmé, shaking her head at something that Anakin had told the children. Luke and Leia again, this time as teenagers, tumbling into the apartment and complaining about something or other to their parents. And at the center of it all, Obi-Wan could see Anakin’s face smoothed of its hard, battle-earned lines and instead replaced by laughter and pure, uncomplicated love.

And Obi-Wan suddenly realized that this would be Anakin Skywalker’s life—this would be where Anakin Skywalker thrived, surrounded by his own family. _His_ family, not the Jedi Order or anything or anyone else.

Obi-Wan told himself he wasn’t surprised—he had to have seen this coming at some point or another. He knew that there was no real way for Anakin to ever separate himself from the children, even if they were proven Force-sensitive. He _knew_ his own flesh and blood, in a way that Obi-Wan—

Anakin gave Obi-Wan another quizzical look before turning back to the stove. “If you say so,” he said, reaching for the cupboard above. He set a bowl on the counter and leaned back to look at Obi-Wan again. They were quiet for a few seconds—Anakin leaning back against the island with his arms crossed over his chest, Obi-Wan still sitting on the couch, each of them mulling over the almost-silence. (Almost-silence because they could both hear the sound of the slightly bubbling water at the stovetop.)

Obi-Wan broke the silence first. “I am glad,” he said. His voice came out quieter than he expected, but he was being sincere. And he found with some relief that, judging by the little smile Anakin gave him, Anakin knew that he was being sincere.

“And I’m glad that _you_ are,” Anakin said, pushing himself off the island. He lowered the heat on the stovetop, stirred the oats in the pot. There was a quiet clatter as Anakin reached for a ladle, portioned out the food in the bowl. Anakin turned to Obi-Wan, that familiar smirk tugging at his lips. “Do you want it plain, or…?”

Obi-Wan stood up, took the pear out of Anakin’s hand. “I can cut this myself, you know,” he said lightly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Anakin replied, plucking the pear back. “But then that wouldn’t be too much fun, would it?”

Obi-Wan managed a smile back, and then he was watching Anakin cut up the pear and toss it into the oatmeal. “Neat,” he commented.

“Surprised?”

“Hardly,” Obi-Wan replied, fishing a spare piece of stem out of the bowl. He flicked it over to Anakin, who didn’t so much as give it a second glance before tossing it into the trash compartment. “Thank you.”

Anakin grinned. “Welcome,” he replied. He walked around Obi-Wan, sat down on a stool at the island. Obi-Wan slipped beside him, and for a blessed little while, there weren’t any words needed between the two of them. Only the occasional nod or half-smile, sometimes a silent pass of a napkin.

For a little while, they could almost pretend that there wasn’t anything else going on outside the apartment: just another quiet morning, maybe the first quiet morning in a long string of many quiet mornings.

But Obi-Wan knew they couldn’t keep the ruse up, not even as they transitioned to a full-of-nothings conversation about Anakin’s dishwashing routine. (Anakin preferred drying, and he didn’t like the smell of the dish soap they currently had, and they’ll probably have to swap it out with something else soon…)

So when they turned on the holotelevision, neither one said anything. They just moved to the living room, watched.

And when Satine appeared on the screen, Obi-Wan found that he had been right in all his previous assumptions: Satine, with her chin tilted up and eyes sharp and steady even in the harsh lights of the Senate chambers.

“She doesn’t look nervous,” Anakin commented.

“No,” Obi-Wan said. “She doesn’t.” _Of course she doesn’t._

“ _I came here on the assumption that I would be able to make my presence known on my own terms_ ,” Satine was saying now. She had a wry smile on her face, but Obi-Wan could detect that slight clench in her jaw that told him that she was already preparing for a lash. “ _It would seem that someone has beaten me to it._ ”

“ _I understand my presence brings with it much confusion_ ,” Satine added. “ _Especially in regards to Mandalore’s stance in these new political proceedings._ ” She paused, continued: “ _We have always done our best to make Mandalore a peaceful world. Even in this new time of rebuilding, Mandalore will look to better maintain that peace and, in time, open its arms to those who wish to make a new life for themselves_.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t see how the other senators were reacting—Satine’s face lingered on the screen, her shoulders thrown back, eyes staring straight ahead at those undoubtedly watching her.

And then the screen shifted over away from Satine and to someone else: Senator Burtoni, wearing an unpleasantly cool smile. “ _You might as well cut to the chase, Duchess_ ,” the senator said, leaning forward. “ _You mean to speak of welcoming clone troopers on your planet_.”

“ _Such was one of the main reasons why I came to Coruscant, yes,_ ” Satine replied, her voice level. “ _Many clone troopers fought valiantly for Mandalore in a time of need, and we are more than willing to return them the favor_.”

“ _Mandalore_ ,” Senator Burtoni said delicately, “ _still seems to have a long way to go in its rebuilding efforts, does it not?_ ” Another wry smile. “ _We all know of Mandalore’s fickle past._ ”

A pause—Obi-Wan could practically feel the tension through the holotelevision as Satine’s face came back into view.

Satine herself was still, but only for a half of a moment.

Satine smiled, its wryness matching that of Burtoni’s. “ _Bold words for someone whose own homeworld has been rife with scandal_ ,” she said. “ _As I understand it, your own people are responsible for yet another conflict regarding the clones, are they not?_ ”

Burtoni’s face closed. “ _Are you sure you want to speak of scandal here, Duchess?_ ” she asked. “ _After all, we are all aware of yet another cause for upset on Mandalore, are we not?_ ”

Satine didn’t so much as blink, but Obi-Wan saw that clench in her jaw again. “ _You will find, Senator_ ,” Satine said, her voice cold, controlled, “ _that you underestimate what it takes to upset Mandalore._ ”

Some stirring amongst the Senate chambers. A few murmurs were caught, but none of them quite loud enough to be projected in the holotelevision.

“ _No?_ ” came the senator’s response. “ _A temporary occupation from a terrorist group, a killed and seemingly resurrected ruler, as well as a secret direct heir would rattle anyone, I would assume._ ” Another cold smile. “ _You’ll have to forgive us, Duchess, if you think we would be so easily convinced as to your own influence over your own world._ ”

And there, Obi-Wan saw it: a small flicker of doubt in Satine’s eyes, the slightest downward tug of her lips that told Obi-Wan Satine had been wondering similar things. The murmurs from the Senate chamber grew into a dull roar, and then Chancellor Mothma’s voice was cutting above the noise: “ _Senators, please_ —”

Obi-Wan stood up.

Anakin turned off the holotelevision. Looked up at Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan looked back down at Anakin. Hesitated. “If the Council calls—”

“I suddenly have no idea where you are,” Anakin replied. He settled down on the rug, suddenly interested in picking off the children’s toys. “You could be eaten by a gundark, for all I know.”

“Anakin—”

“Fine, no gundark,” Anakin said, standing up. He walked away from Obi-Wan, returned with a cloak. He tossed it at Obi-Wan. “Be careful out there.”

“Aren’t I always,” Obi-Wan said dryly. Or tried to sound that way. He was dully aware of the tightness in his chest, the extra second it took for him to put on the cloak. He looked at Anakin. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Anakin replied. He gestured vaguely. “Door or balcony?”

It took a moment for Obi-Wan to get at what Anakin was suggesting.

And despite himself, Obi-Wan managed a weak huff of a laugh. “For goodness’ sake, Anakin,” he said, moving past his friend to the door. “I’m not running a covert operation.”

“No,” Anakin replied, following Obi-Wan. “But you could be surprised.”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, adjusting the hood over his head, “I don’t think anything could surprise me anymore.”

\--

Satine hadn’t yet returned from the Senate chambers when Obi-Wan reached the apartment. It was strange—he hadn’t even needed to ask where she was staying. He had just assumed she would be in the same apartment she had stayed at during the first few times she had come to Coruscant, and for a terrible moment, Obi-Wan wondered if Satine had actually been moved to a different apartment, and he was considering walking away, searching for Satine elsewhere when the lift doors opened.

“Obi-Wan,” Satine said, stepping out of the lift with her guards.

“Satine.” Obi-Wan bowed his head slightly. “I saw your statement.”

“Yes,” Satine said, moving past Obi-Wan. “Senator Burtoni’s quite…something else. I can’t understand how Ahsoka and Rex were able to handle her the first time.” She brought a hand up to the keypad at the door. Obi-Wan noticed the lightest tremor in her hand, but then the door was sliding open, and Satine dropped her hand back to her side.

There weren’t any words exchanged between them afterwards: Satine walked into the apartment, Obi-Wan followed. The guards remained outside, and then the doors slid closed behind them.

For a while, they only stood in the apartment. Satine, standing at the center of the apartment, one hand resting atop the head of her cane, the other dangling at her side. Obi-Wan, standing just two steps standing in front of the door, cloak still wrapped around his shoulders.

“The boy,” Obi-Wan said at last. He saw the slight stiffening of Satine’s shoulders. And then the inevitable drop of them as Obi-Wan continued, “Korkie.”

A beat of silence—the loudest silence Obi-Wan had ever heard.

“Satine,” Obi-Wan said quietly. He braved a step forward, found with some surprise that his steps were steadier than he anticipated. Years of standing on a battlefield and balancing himself amid blaster and cannon fire, he supposed, would probably do that to someone.

And then Obi-Wan heard a sharp breath, the kind of breath that one only took after holding in for so long. Satine’s head dropped for a moment, and Obi-Wan saw her lift a hand, imagined her pushing it up to her face. He could see the expression so perfectly—he was seeing too many things too clearly today, he realized. And he felt like that was some strange joke, being able to envision things so clearly only now.

“Satine—” Obi-Wan tried again.

“ _Don’t_ ,” Satine said. Her hand dropped, her shoulders straightened, her head lifted. “Please, don’t ask—”

Something numbed in Obi-Wan’s chest at the desperation in Satine’s voice. He had only ever heard that tone a few times, and only ever before something terrible happen.

Satine turned around slowly. Her eyes were turned to the ground, made their time to reach Obi-Wan’s face. They were clear—too clear to the point of reminding Obi-Wan of glass, the same pale blue glass of the Sundari Palace. But even still, Satine’s gaze remained focus, sharp as she shook her head slightly—a small shake, one that anyone else would have missed. “Please,” she repeated quietly.

“How could I not ask?” Obi-Wan asked. He took another step forward, and this time, Satine took a step back. Obi-Wan stopped short, that numbness in his chest giving way to cold ice.

They stood still.

“He was the one who used the healing crystal,” Obi-Wan said at last. “He somehow—”

“I said _not to ask_ —”

“And I’m _not_ ,” Obi-Wan replied. He looked at Satine, searched the glass of her eyes. Satine held his gaze—she was always good at that, and now more than ever. And in the end, it was Obi-Wan who looked away first, found himself trying to grapple for his next words, only to realize that he _couldn’t_ , for the first time, think of anything to say for the life of him.

Except for perhaps what he said next—

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice too quiet and the silence too loud.

“How could I?”

Obi-Wan looked at Satine.

Satine only tilted her head, a helpless look on her face. She brought up a hand, gestured towards him. “I couldn’t ask you to—and _I_ couldn’t…” Her voice drifted, and she let out a breath, blinked up to the ceiling. “We had different lives. _Have_ different lives.” She blinked again, fixed her gaze back on Obi-Wan. “And I don’t expect you to change yourself for me. Or for any of this.”

Obi-Wan only looked at her, feeling that ice grow. And he knew—he _knew_ , had known, somehow, that Satine wouldn’t ask him to make any sacrifice of the sort. And yet—

“You were alone,” he said. “All this time—even when I came to Mandalore—” He paused, suddenly having a terrible thought. “Does _he_ know?”

“He knows I’m not merely his aunt,” Satine replied. “I suspect he’s known for a long time. But as for…the rest…” She lifted her eyes up to Obi-Wan. “He knows that his father must have been different.”

Obi-Wan saw the boy’s face float before his eyes again. The more he thought of it, the more he could see both Satine and himself in that face. All this time—

“And what about him?”

“What do you mean?”

Obi-Wan let out a short laugh. It rang hollowly around the room. “If he’s able to use a healing crystal _now_ , then he must have expressed some of his own particular skills before.”

A pause. And then Satine said, “Only a few times. And only enough times for people to dismiss them all as happy coincidences of an energetic child.”

Obi-Wan tried not to imagine what those coincidences might have entailed. Or maybe he _did_ want to imagine—

“Well,” Obi-Wan said, looking at Satine, “he knows now that those weren’t just coincidences. Must have been aware for quite some time, if he was able to use the crystal.” His blood ran cold at the image of the young boy down in those catacombs, his hands wrapped around the glowing blue crystal. Eyes—his eyes—lit up by the glow. Alone.

Alone for all this time—

“He knows now, yes.”

Obi-Wan found Satine’s sad eyes. Not sad for him, he realized. Sad for both of them.

He wanted to look away. Realized that he couldn’t stand that glassiness in them, the feeling that they might break at a moment’s notice. He wondered if he looked the same.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” Obi-Wan asked. “Even before—did you—”

He wasn’t sure what answer he wanted. At least, he told himself he didn’t know what answer he wanted.

But when Satine only stared at him, Obi-Wan realized he was lying to himself.

“I see.”

Another silence.

Satine looked away first. Blinked a few times, wiped her hand against her dress. “Well,” she said quietly, “I won’t keep you here much longer. I’m sure you have your own affairs to take care of, and I have mine.” She cleared her throat, looked down quickly at the ground before lifting her head back up to Obi-Wan. A dismissal, that was what this was.

This was the part where Obi-Wan left.

This was the part where they would part ways: Obi-Wan in one direction, Satine in the other.

And yet—

Satine turned back around, took a few steps deeper into the apartment. Obi-Wan watched her retreating back, the sinking sensation in his chest reminding him a little too much that he had seen this part before. Too many times.

He knew what he was supposed to do now: turn around, walk out the apartment.

Obi-Wan took one step back—a small, hesitant step back to the door. This was the part where he left.

Obi-Wan looked to Satine’s retreating back. In just a few moments, she would be in another part of the apartment entirely, out of his line of sight, and Obi-Wan saw something else: the two of them, alone again. Satine, probably hovering near the doorframe to the other room and waiting for the sound of footsteps to walk out of the apartment, the rush of a door opening and closing. And then they would be alone again.

Satine was walking farther and farther away now, each step taking her closer and closer to that future.

 _This was the part where he left_ —

And then Obi-Wan took one step forward, two. Only these steps weren’t even, not like the ones he had taken when he had first walked into the apartment. Obi-Wan was walking on rocky ground, on shards of broken glass.

He didn’t say anything. He found that he didn’t have to, not as Satine’s steps slowed with his quickened ones. Their steps turned out of sync, Satine’s footfalls sounding a beat after Obi-Wan’s own.

And then Obi-Wan was standing right behind Satine. He didn’t even need to hold out a hand to reach her. He could lean forward, and he knew exactly where his forehead would bump against the back of her head.

Satine let her head drop.

Another breath. Hers, his, Obi-Wan didn’t know.

He didn’t have to reach forward—he could just stay here, right behind her, and that might have been enough for both of them.

Might have—

Obi-Wan reached forward, found the spot right above Satine’s elbow, right where he used to pull her back from danger or pull her towards him. He didn’t pull now—just kept that hand there, a quiet plea.

Another breath.

“Satine,” Obi-Wan said quietly. His name was little more than a breath of his own—nearly soundless, but the little tilt of Satine’s head gave all the confirmation he needed. He looked down at his hand still at Satine’s arm. “Just this once—”

Satine turned around to him fully, and Obi-Wan’s hand slipped away as she lifted her face up to him. Obi-Wan saw the red in her eyes now, but there were no tears. She wouldn’t let them fall, Obi-Wan knew. 

Obi-Wan swallowed. “Just this once,” he repeated. His hand twitched, still feeling Satine under his palm. He pressed his hand to his side, even as it ached for a different kind of touch. He blinked quickly, tried to focus on something other than Satine’s eyes. He found the window instead. The sun was already high in the sky, shining too brightly and cheerfully.

“Obi-Wan,” Satine said softly. And then there was a pause—a hesitation—and then Obi-Wan felt a warm hand cup the side of his face.

Obi-Wan breathed in once, felt that stutter in his chest as he refocused on Satine.

“All those years,” Obi-Wan said hoarsely. He reached up, found Satine’s hand. Their fingers slipped around each other’s too quickly, too naturally. “All this time—” He cut himself off at Satine’s sad expression. _Please_ , he wanted to say, even though he didn’t know what he was pleading. _See this._

“Just this once,” he said at last, squeezing Satine’s hand, “if we could…do this. Together.” He squeezed her hand again. _Please_ —

“The whole galaxy knows about him now,” Obi-Wan said quietly. “I want for us to—just this once—”

“Be there,” Satine finished. “Together.”

Obi-Wan nodded—really not a nod, just a shift of his head. The smallest shift, just enough to feel their fingers brush against his face again.

Just enough—

 _Just this once_ —

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to note that I spent nearly three hours listening to 'The Winner Takes It All' from the Mamma Mia! soundtrack writing the last scene because,,,reasons. 
> 
> As always, comments/kudos/subscriptions are greatly appreciated!


	19. Chapter 19

“Maybe if we used this—”

“That might be too expensive.” 

“No,” Padmé said, looking over Rex and Ahsoka’s shoulder. “Keep it in there. It’s always better to have an option that’s a little higher than we estimated—that way, if we find an alternative that we actually want, we’re more likely to get funded for the two-week window.”

Two weeks—that was how much time both Padmé and Obi-Wan had estimated would be the time for all the chips in the clone trooper army to be deactivated to keep both the politicians and people happy. Two weeks. Around the clock, maybe the task was feasible…but Ahsoka still felt her stomach clench at the prospect. _Two weeks_. Hundreds of thousands of clones had to receive a fast and safe treatment—and they all had to be done within _two weeks_.

“And here I thought bargaining only ever worked with pirates and loan sharks,” Ahsoka muttered as Rex highlighted the link to the procedure article.

“Politics are all about bargaining,” Padmé replied, seating herself back down at her side of the desk. “And every once in a while, you bargain correctly.”

“A bargain for hundreds of thousands of lives,” Rex said, looking down at the datapad. “So we better bargain correctly.”

Ahsoka glanced over at him. He hadn’t said much since they had gotten up this morning, save for an exchange of “good morning”s. And then they had followed Padmé into the Senate Building, and Ahsoka had been relieved that they had arrived early enough to not catch too many hostile-looking senators. There were only a few cleaning droids and a few guards—clone troopers who, even with their helmets on, Ahsoka could tell were tense and on the verge of waiting for something to happen.

“They can’t stay at the barracks?” Padmé asked quietly, glancing around at the clone troopers.

“Someone’s got to keep guarding the Senate Building,” Rex had replied flatly.

“But there’s the Senate guards—”

“And what’s the ratio of Senate guards to clone guards?”

Padmé had gone quiet then, and no one had bothered adding onto that afterwards.

Rex, sensing Ahsoka’s eyes on him, looked over at her now. “Something wrong?”

“No,” Ahsoka lied. She looked down at her own datapad, trying to focus on the words there. Something about surgical implants, but that wasn’t right at all, because they were looking to get the chips _out_ , not put something back _in_. She clicked out of the article, the datapad bouncing a little under her leg. She looked at Rex again.

His expression had turned stony again, his face looking only colder in the blue light of the screen.

He deserved to be upset, Ahsoka knew. He should feel upset. Everything had turned upside down— _everything_ , and Ahsoka wanted to rewind time so that things didn’t hurt so much. More than anything, she wanted to fix everything right then and there, but she couldn’t do it herself. She was just one person, and even then, looking at the determined set of Rex’s face, Ahsoka had the feeling that this wasn’t something for her to own.

 _Think about what the clones are going through_ , Ahsoka thought, looking back down at her datapad. _She_ never had a chip implanted in her, telling her to kill her friends and family. _She_ at least maintained control of her body. There had been an occasion once, Ahsoka knew—a blurry memory of a planet that wasn’t really a planet and feeling cold and then seeing Anakin and Obi-Wan’s relieved faces above her, but Ahsoka couldn’t remember too much of what happened to herself there. Just that she hadn’t been the same then, either.

But that had lasted only a little while, and she had gotten better. But this—Ahsoka imagined having something that could control her stuck in her body for _years_. Without her knowledge until being abruptly told by newscasters.

There had to be a quicker way to get all the chips out. A quick, reasonably priced way that would leave the clone troopers unharmed. After all, the inhibitor chips were in their _heads_ , and Ahsoka’s blood ran cold at the idea of any accidents. The thought of even one…

“I figured you two wanted to visit the Kaminoans—I could request a meeting with Nala Se,” Padmé said. She glanced up around to Rex and Ahsoka. “Lama Su and she would be held in the detention center, but we can persuade them into giving us any information that might have slipped their minds.”

Another trip to the detention center, Ahsoka thought with a sinking heart. She had known that would come when they had all spoken at the Skywalker-Amidala residence yesterday. But she shook the feeling off quickly. It didn’t matter if she didn’t want to go back in there—there were other more important matters, and one inmate can’t keep Ahsoka from staying focused. Even if she hated—

Ahsoka took that thought back quickly. She didn’t _hate_. She couldn’t hate.

_But didn’t she? Shouldn’t she?_

_Stay focused_ , Ahsoka thought. She turned to Rex. “What do you think?” she asked.

Rex set his datapad on the desk. “That was how they got their reduced sentence,” he said. “Agreeing to give as much information as they could in what they did to the clones. Us.” He pressed his lips together. “But if there’s anything that might have slipped their mind, it’s worth a visit.”

Ahsoka nodded. “So we’ll add that to our to-do list,” she said.

“Our?” Rex repeated.

Ahsoka paused, her finger hovering over the datapad. “Well, yeah,” she said, blinking. “Our.” She looked back down at the datapad. “You didn’t think you were going in to talk to them alone, were you?”

“I can speak with Senator Burtoni later,” Padmé volunteered. “I know that you two have already had your…discussions with her.” A wry smile from the senator. “Who knows, she might even welcome me since I haven’t twisted her arm in some time.”

“Twist her arm as hard as you possibly can, Senator,” Rex said dryly.

A wink from Padmé. “Consider it done.”

There was a brief smile from Rex at that—just a quick twinge of the lips before he was looking back down at his datapad, and then they were all resuming their search once more. Ahsoka managed to snag down yet another article about brain surgery. She knew they could rely on medical droids, but still, Ahsoka thought about how there could only be so many medical droids on Coruscant. There were other medical outposts, so surely…

There were too many calculations spinning through Ahsoka’s head for now. She made a note of it on her datapad: something to consider later.

Ahsoka swallowed back a sigh. At this rate…Ahsoka wasn’t even sure if it was medically possible to get results as quickly as people wanted. Or as quickly as even the clone troopers wanted, Ahsoka was sure. She would want to get any chip in her head out as quickly as possible.

 _Possible—this couldn’t be possible_. There needed to be some other parameters for the results they wanted…

 _Possible_ —

And then some small thought formed at the back of Ahsoka’s head. Something that shouldn’t be possible that suddenly somehow _became_ possible.

Ahsoka slowly set down her datapad on her lap. Reached slowly into the fold of her clothes, wrapped her fingers around the familiar little shard tucked between the fabric. She could have been imagining things, but Ahsoka could have sworn she felt something pulsing there once she wrapped her hand around it.

Ahsoka swallowed.

 _Something that shouldn’t have been possible_ …

Padmé lifted her head. “Ahsoka?”

And then Rex was looking at her too, and the room was suddenly much, much quieter than it had been a moment ago, even though no one had been talking then either.

“I’m thinking,” Ahsoka said slowly. Before she could lose her nerve completely, she tugged her hand out of her clothes, uncurled her fingers around the crystal to reveal it in its cool blue glow.

“Is that…” Padmé’s voice was uncertain.

“The crystal that brought Duchess Satine back,” Ahsoka said, looking down at the crystal. As though sensing that it was being thought of now, the crystal seemed to glow a little brighter in her palm. She turned it around in her hand. “And that shouldn’t have been possible. By all counts, that should have been medically impossible.” She glanced over at Rex. “And right now, removing all the chips as quickly as everyone wants them seems like just as challenging, doesn’t it?”

Rex stared. “You mean you want to…” He looked down at the crystal. “Use that.”

“It might work,” Ahsoka said. She looked at Rex. “I don’t know how, but I’m sure if I could contact Bo-Katan again, get in touch with who used the crystal in the first place…” Her voice drifted into silence as they all fell into contemplation about who _had_ used the crystal. And, more importantly, how that very person could possibly be implicated in other political matters.

“Is there anyone else who could potentially know how to use the crystal?” Padmé asked. “Perhaps some of the healers?”

Ahsoka nodded. “Maybe,” she said. “It’s more than possible. I’m sure that—” She looked at Rex, found the strange look on his face. “What?” she asked.

“That’s just one crystal,” Rex said. “And there’s hundreds of thousands of us.” He looked up at Ahsoka. “The sheer numbers—”

“We can figure it out with this,” Ahsoka said. “If—”

“Let’s look for other solutions.”

Ahsoka blinked. She hadn’t heard Rex sound so terse before, at least not directed at her. Not recently. Ahsoka blinked again, but Rex was already looking back down at his datapad.

Ahsoka flicked her eyes over to Padmé, who cleared her throat. “We should keep our options open,” she said, and Ahsoka couldn’t help but feel a little surprised at that too. She would have thought Padmé would—well, not take Ahsoka’s _side,_ necessarily, because there weren’t any real sides to _take_ , but she had at least expected…

Ahsoka blinked a few more times at her datapad, not making sense of the words floating on her screen. She turned the crystal over in her hands again. The crystal’s glow had dimmed a little now, sensing that it no longer held everyone’s attention.

Ahsoka pocketed the crystal, even though she still felt it burning in the folds of her clothes.

\--

The crystal was still burning against Ahsoka’s clothes when she found herself standing in front of the detention center again. But they were here on their own terms—it wasn’t like last time, and Ahsoka figured she should be grateful for at least that much, if she had to be grateful for anything.

Well, that wasn’t true—Ahsoka had other things to be grateful for, she knew. Even if all the noise and the worse things seemed to clutter the rest of Ahsoka’s head. At one point, Padmé had turned on the news in case there were any updates, and they only just managed to watch a snippet of Duchess Satine’s statement. Ahsoka thought it was only fitting that Senator Burtoni would be the one causing the ruckus against the duchess.

“Well,” Padmé had said long after turning off the holotelevision, “I suppose that’ll make my meeting with her much more…interesting.”

“More annoying, you mean,” Ahsoka had grumbled, but she was glad—and guiltily so—that Padmé would be meeting the senator and not Rex or herself. She had enough of any more political double-talk.

 _Or maybe not_ , Ahsoka thought as the detention center guards led Rex and herself down the halls. She noticed that they passed Barriss’ cell door. Ahsoka found herself glancing once, but then she was turning back around, because _no, they weren’t here for her._ Ahsoka focused her thoughts on the Kaminoans instead. That part wasn’t too difficult. She hadn’t talked to Lama Su or Nala Se since she was a young girl, back when she was still more frequently in contact with medical centers in her earlier missions, but even then, Ahsoka remembered being stricken by the Kaminoans’ slow, mild tones. Ahsoka had found them to be a calm people, but now, a chill ran up her spine at how the Kaminoans could be so calm even with the knowledge that they were implanting inhibitor chips into the clones. That had to count as _some_ form of double-talk.

Ahsoka cast Rex a sidelong glance. “Are you okay?” she asked after a little while. She was aware of the guards walking in front of her, but even if they could hear her, their helmets covered up their reactions. Actually, Ahsoka was suddenly tempted to ask the guards the same question.

“We will be,” Rex replied, his eyes staring straight ahead. “When we get to the bottom of this mess.”

 _I wasn’t asking about you plural_ , Ahsoka thought. _I was asking about_ you _._

But then the guards came to a stop, and Ahsoka had to turn her attention back to the door in front of her. Another red ray-shielded square was the only window into the cell, but even through that, Ahsoka couldn’t see the prisoners. They would be at the back of the room too.

“Room’s divided,” one of the guards said, tapping at the keypad. “Take your time, Commanders.”

Both Rex and Ahsoka nodded, and then they were both walking through the cell door.

Ahsoka found the Kaminoans easily—they were standing at the back of the cell just as she’d suspected, but there was another wall of red ray shield blocking out the space between the two Kaminoans. They were clothed in the bright orange detention center garb, which made their already pale skin look even sicklier. Ahsoka would have felt sorry for them if they weren’t watching her so…intently. It wasn’t just their dark eyes—it was just the way they tilted their heads at Rex and herself, as though they were moreso interesting specimen than actual people.

 _Keep staring like that_ , Ahsoka thought, meeting their gazes. _See if that helps_.

“I assume you two already know why we’re here,” Rex said. There were two chairs already in the cell, presumably left for Ahsoka and Rex, but Rex didn’t sit down, so neither did Ahsoka. She guessed that it wouldn’t help much anyways: Nala Se and Lama Su’s necks alone made them so much taller than themselves, and Ahsoka figured that they didn’t need the Kaminoans to look down on them any more than they already did.

“We were informed beforehand, yes,” Lama Su said. His voice was surprisingly slower, deeper than Ahsoka had anticipated.

“Good,” Rex said. “Then we won’t waste any time. And you won’t waste any of ours.” His tone was hard, matter-of-fact. Lower than Ahsoka had anticipated, too. But she didn’t dare look at him. She kept her eyes on the Kaminoans. She didn’t like how Nala Se was watching her. Ahsoka remembered a different time, back when Anakin and herself had come to the aid of a medical center from Grievous’ superweapon. How strange everything felt now, Ahsoka realized, looking at the scientist. That the lives Anakin and Ahsoka had saved by coming to the aid of the medical center might not have meant anything—not really, anyways, to Nala Se and Lama Su. Nothing but intellectual property.

“You are looking for answers regarding the inhibitor chips,” Nala Se said at last. “We have cooperated. Given you enough information—”

“We’re the ones who get to decide what counts as enough information,” Rex said. “And given the circumstances, we know that you _haven’t_ given enough. So.” He neared the ray-shield wall, his hands folded tightly behind his back. “What else is there that you haven’t told us about the chips?”

A silence.

And then, Lama Su: “the building of the inhibitor chips was a delicate undertaking that required the greatest of precision.”

“It is indeed a feat of great talent and intellectual—”

“Yes, you must be so proud,” Ahsoka interrupted.

“But what we _need_ to know is,” Rex said in a hard voice, “is how to get those inhibitor chips _out_. And as quickly and as safely as possible. Within a timeframe of one week.”

Ahsoka kept her expression blank as the words settled in. _One week_ —that was one week shorter than Padmé had advised. She saw the exchanged look between Nala Se and Lama Su, and Ahsoka had the feeling that even without knowing the actual time window themselves, they were still just as surprised.

“Impossible,” Nala Se said at last. “The procedure is delicate and—”

“You’re expecting me to believe that you two didn’t create some kind of quick failsafe with your own chips?” Rex asked. He neared the ray-shield wall by a single step. “I’m having a hard time believing that.”

Another pause, and then Nala Se said, “Within a week is impossible.”

“Figure out a way to make it possible.”

“Is removing the chips absolutely _necessary_ in the first place?” Lama Su asked. “Those inhibitor chips cannot function anymore, not without the proper command. And the only one who could give that command happens to be dead.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Rex said sharply. “That chip malfunctioned before.”

“ _Before_ was an unfortunate accident—” Nala Se started, but then Rex was walking back to the front of the cell. Ahsoka turned around, confused, as the door suddenly slid open. Ahsoka watched Rex’s lips move, and then the guard nodded. The door slid shut, and Ahsoka turned back around at the sound of the ray-shield wall come down.

 _What_ —

She heard the click of a blaster—no, two blasters—and Ahsoka turned around to see Rex still standing by the door, his hands steady.

“An unfortunate accident,” he repeated, his voice low. He wasn’t looking at Ahsoka. His dark eyes were dead-set on the Kaminoans who now slowly stood up from their perches. “An unfortunate accident was what took the lives of innocent Jedi and innocent men. _Men_.” He took a step forward. “Not intellectual property, not science experiments, but _men_. Flesh and blood.”

Lama Su hissed, his long neck bending as he glowered down at Rex. “Without the work of our scientists or our work, you wouldn’t even _exist_.”

“Maybe,” Rex replied. “But without your work, the inhibitor chips wouldn’t be here either. And we wouldn’t be in this mess, even after the war’s over. The war is _over_ ,” he repeated, adjusting his grip on his blasters. “Your work is _done_. End it _now_.”

The Kaminoans suddenly stepped forward, but in just a heartbeat, Ahsoka had both her sabers activated and in her hands.

“You heard him,” Ahsoka said, twisting her sabers in her hands. “ _Talk_.”

“You two are fools if you think mere threats can—”

A deafening blast, and Ahsoka jerked up her head in time to see the burning hole in the little space between Lama Su and Nala Se’s heads. Ahsoka looked at Rex. And knew from that glittering determination in his eyes that he had not missed.

“ _Talk_ ,” Rex said.

Another silence.

“ _Now_ ,” Rex repeated.

The Kaminoans both slowly sat back down, and Ahsoka could have sworn their white skin had grown even paler. But Rex didn’t drop his blasters, and Ahsoka didn’t drop her sabers. She should—someone would tell her that she should, but there was nowhere to tell her that now.

“There is a way,” Nala Se said at last. “Expensive, but possible.”

“Well,” Rex said. “On with it.”

A breath.

And then: “The inhibitor chips are meant to remain hidden. They’re not meant to be picked up by any medical scanners.”

“So?” Rex asked.

“So,” Nala Se replied slowly, “I propose a kind of pulse. Something that the inhibitor chips _will_ pick up. A mass pulse should do the trick.” A wan smile. “It’ll be painful, but it’ll be the least harmful method.”

\--

“That has to be way out of the budget for the Senate,” Ahsoka said when they were walking back to the speeder. “And it still doesn’t sound safe.” She looked at Rex, and when she found no reaction, she continued, “A mass pulse that just _casually_ deactivates the entirety of the inhibitor chips? With everyone _together_?” She shook her head. “I don’t like it, Rex. There has to be another way—”

“Like that crystal?”

Ahsoka stopped and looked at Rex. _Really_ looked at him.

“You don’t want me to use the crystal,” she said slowly. “Why?”

“You said it yourself before,” Rex said. “It’s strange. And if we started using _that_ —”

Ahsoka frowned. “But it might _help_ —”

“Do you really know that?” Rex asked. He sounded tired suddenly, all that ice in his voice from moments before melting away. He rubbed a hand over his face, his hand coming to a stop by his lips as he nodded to the fold in Ahsoka’s clothes. The exact fold where Ahsoka had kept the crystal hidden.

“No,” Ahsoka replied. “I don’t.” She started to reach for the crystal, but halfway through, she dropped her hand back to her side. She paused, looked at Rex. He was looking back at her, hands now at his sides. Expecting her response.

But Ahsoka realized that she wasn’t the one who was supposed to say anything.

“I don’t have a chip in my head,” Ahsoka said at last. “And I can’t even…” Her voice drifted. “I don’t know what this is like for you,” she said. She squared her shoulders, lifted her chin. “So whatever decision you decide to make, you have my support.” She paused. “If that counts for anything.”

They were both quiet, and then Ahsoka saw the beginnings of a smile break over Rex’s face. “Trust me,” he said. “It does.”

Ahsoka smiled.

“So, it’s my turn to fly, right?” she said, gesturing to the speeder. Without waiting for a response, she hopped into the speeder and started up the engines. “Next up, Senator Amidala’s office…”

Rex slipped into the seat next to Ahsoka, and as the speeder lifted into the air, he said, “And the same goes for you.”

Ahsoka paused. Turned to Rex. “Meaning…?”

“Decisions,” Rex replied. He cast Ahsoka a sidelong glance. “I ‘spect you’ve been thinking about those.”

Ahsoka’s heart jumped. “Did you…”

“Might have heard you say something to the general,” Rex replied. He looked out to the front of the speeder. “I’m not exactly an _expert_ on the Jedi, but I’ve caught on to enough.” He glanced at Ahsoka again. “At least, the compassion part. Something you lot have talked about before. Back when you were still…” He gestured, lowering his hand up to his shoulder. A mockery of Ahsoka’s height from back when she was a Padawan. Back when she was still a part of the Order.

And despite the flip-flopping of her heart in her chest, Ahsoka managed a smile. “I wasn’t _that_ short.”

“You’re right,” Rex said seriously, lowering his hand even farther.

Ahsoka huffed out a breath, turned back around to the speeder lanes.

They were quiet for a little while, and then Rex said, “So…that little talk you had with the general. You didn’t mean to let that part slip out, did you?”

“Maybe not,” Ahsoka replied. “Just old habits.”

“Old habits,” Rex repeated. Ahsoka felt his eyes on her again, but she concentrated on the speeders in front of her. A few beats of silence, and Ahsoka thought that he had let the matter go, but then he asked, “What’s keeping you from…the rest?”

Ahsoka didn’t need to ask him to clarify what he meant. And she supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised—they’d worked so closely for so long now, and frankly…Ahsoka shifted her hands against the controls.

“I don’t know,” she replied quietly.

Another pause.

“Does it have something to do with her?”

Ahsoka tightened her hands on the controls. “I don’t want it to be,” she said. Her voice was small, even to her own hearing. But she knew that Rex could hear her, because she could still feel his attention. “I _really_ don’t want it to be,” she said.

A silence.

And then Rex, quietly: “But you don’t think you have a choice.”

Ahsoka watched the speeder in front of her. “No,” she said. “I don’t think I do.” And then she looked at Rex. “But that’s something that I’ll figure out later. Because right now, we’ve got other things—more important things. Like this pulse thing.” She smiled, but Rex didn’t smile back.

But then he turned to the speeders too. “Well,” he said. “If you ever feel like paying another visit…” He looked behind them, to where the detention center was growing smaller and smaller in the distance. He looked at Ahsoka, the offer not needed to be spoken aloud.

So Ahsoka nodded, and they rode their way to Padmé’s office in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments/kudos/subscriptions are greatly appreciated!


	20. Chapter 20

“You know, this would be a lot easier if you stopped moving around,” Anakin said, trying to tug the datapad out of Leia’s grip. His daughter only dragged the corner of the datapad back down. Even at such a young age, Anakin was both surprised and pleased to discover that Leia was stronger than she looked. “Daddy’s got to work. Just sit still like Luke.”

Leia made a small sound, and Anakin looked down to find that Luke was crawling along the floor on his belly, arms reaching for one of the toys. There was a beat of silence, and then, Anakin watched in both awe and pride as the toy levitated into Luke’s grip. That seemed to be getting easier and easier with each passing day.

Leia bounced a little in Anakin’s lap—not really a bounce and more so a little squirm. The message was clear enough, though.

“Okay, okay,” Anakin said, setting Leia down on the ground. “Have at it, then.”

He watched as the two made happy little sounds: scuffling and babbling as they tried to wrest the toy away from each other. Happier sounds than Anakin had heard in what felt like forever, anyways.

“Good news,” Anakin muttered, looking down at the datapad in his lap. “Give me some good news.”

He figured he should feel lucky that he hadn’t received any calls from Ahsoka or Obi-Wan or Padmé or Rex about something blowing up in their faces yet: but then again, it was only early afternoon. There was plenty of time for something to screw itself up.

 _Well, that’s cheerful_.

Anakin dismissed the thought. Things had to be fine. They were _going_ to be fine. They didn’t all just survive a three year war and everything that came with it just for things to _not_ be fine anymore.

But all the same—

Anakin found himself scrolling through the HoloNet anyways. There were already updates and commentary and reports on Duchess Kryze’s big reveal—no surprise there. Some articles were neutral, tiptoeing on just barely opinionated language (one article said that the duchess “articulated with reasonable caution”, while another article said that the duchess was “reluctant to respond to certain criticisms”). Other articles were much more aggressive: _and so she just comes back when the war’s over? How convenient_ , one person griped. _Are we sure she actually died, or was she just hiding?_ wrote another. _And what about that kid??? Look at this thread_ —

Anakin found himself looking at a page of photos and notes: photos of Satine and Obi-Wan on Mandalore from what he could only guess were their earlier days. Under different circumstances, he would have found the pictures amusing. Obi-Wan with a Padawan braid, his face beardless and hair significantly shorter. Anakin had forgotten how short his master’s hair had been when he first met him. Satine was much younger too, of course, herself with shorter hair and her posture a little looser. Not quite yet the duchess that she would be in just a few years, Anakin supposed.

 _See? If you combine their features, you’d definitely get_ —

Anakin looked down at the picture, even though he didn’t really have to. The news image had been enough for him, and with each passing minute, his memory of the young Korkie Kryze seemed to grow clearer in his mind.

But these pictures—

“Well, that’s none of your business,” Anakin said aloud. And with a few satisfied swipes of his hand and some typing on the screen, Anakin wiped the page clean. Good luck to anyone who tried to put up those images later. And good luck to anyone who tried to go on to gossip sites.

Next, Anakin turned to articles about the clone troopers. Those were easy to find: _clones_ , _chips_ , the question of citizenship to _people who could very well dismantle the_ —

“Please,” Anakin muttered. He was almost seriously considering deleting those articles too—just for a moment, that was sorely tempting, but then again, these articles weren’t actually on a gossip site. They were coming from actual sources, but really, when all the news stories were wrong and telling the incorrect facts, did the sources really matter anymore?

Anakin paused.

A coo from Luke brought him back. He was slapping his toy against the carpet, his little brows furrowed.

“Don’t give me that look,” Anakin said, sliding down to the carpet. He stretched his legs out before him, adjusted the datapad on his lap. “You’d want to do the same if someone was spreading lies about our family.” Luke only slapped the toy against the carpet again.

“It’s fine,” Anakin said, more to himself than to Luke. “And everyone will be busy writing actually _true_ articles later, anyways, when Ahsoka and Rex figure out a solution…” But Luke and Leia only looked at Anakin with what he could have sworn was Padmé’s cynicism. “Listen, they started it. And it’s their job to keep the story straight. I’m technically doing their job. Which is good.”

Another sound from Luke, this time joined by Leia.

Anakin wasn’t quite sure how to respond— _how does one respond to children who already seem to be protesting against their father? Were they protesting at all, or was Anakin just tired?_ —when the holoprojector beeped.

“Whatever happens, don’t tattle,” Anakin said. And then he answered the call.

“Everything okay over there?” were Padmé’s first words when she appeared on the holoprojector.

“Absolutely,” Anakin replied, scooting his datapad away. Luke and Leia, upon hearing their mother’s voice, instantly perked up, their little hands and feet wriggling towards the holoprojector. “Hold on a second.” He leaned over to scoop the children off the carpet, sat them down in his lap. “Look at who wants to say hello.”

Padmé’s features softened, and she reached up a hand, wriggling her fingers a little in response to Luke and Leia’s delighted snuffles and cries. “Mommy misses you, too,” Padmé said quietly. “I’ll be back later tonight.”

“How much later?” Anakin asked. He adjusted his grip on Luke to keep him from toppling off his lap. “Is everything…”

“A bit messy,” Padmé said with a braced smile that made Anakin’s chest tight. “I’m about to meet with Senator Burtoni. Rex and Ahsoka went off to the Detention Center to see to our other Kaminoan friends. Hopefully, they’ll be back with some answers—I decided to take over the negotiations part.”

“Senator Burtoni’s certainly been keeping herself busy,” Anakin said. “Did you see the—”

“I wasn’t there for the session itself, but yes. I saw.” Padmé pressed her lips together. “But the duchess is stronger than she looks. She’s handled worse before. Even with all of the…issues floating around.” She rubbed at her temples, looked up at Anakin. “And are you—”

“Keeping myself busy,” Anakin replied. He paused and then said, “I might have deleted some of the gossip threads on Satine and Obi-Wan’s…situation.”

“So long as they were gossip threads.”

“Right,” Anakin said, relieved. “They were probably going to get removed eventually. Everything gets removed eventually on the HoloNet.”

“Maybe,” Padmé said distractedly. “Then again, gossip threads usually are—wait a minute—” She stopped, blinked at Anakin. “What do you mean, about what you said just said before? Everything gets removed eventually—”

“Well, you know, like I said—gossip stuff,” Anakin replied. “Pictures taken without our consent. Stupid conspiracy theories. Stuff like that. Things that aren’t…right.”

“Yes,” Padmé said slowly. “But…” Her voice drifted. “Anakin. What’s going on?”

Anakin could have sworn the look Leia gave him was meant to be smug. _Were babies supposed to look smug?_

 _Don’t you start_ , Anakin thought, tapping Leia on the nose.

“Like I said, I’ve been keeping myself busy,” Anakin said. “Removing stuff from gossip columns…”

“And?”

“ _And_ …?”

“Anakin.” Padmé’s voice was flat.

Anakin paused. And then, with a frustrated sigh, he said, “They’re writing lies about the clones. The stuff they’re saying…” He tossed his datapad aside. “I don’t know _how_ the information got out in the first place, but you know as well as I do that most of the stuff the reporters and journalists are saying are all…exaggerated. And it’s not helping anyone. It’s making people panic, and it’s not good for the clones, and it’s just—it’s all fake, and it needs to be taken down, and I know _you_ might not approve—”

“Why would you think that?” Padmé asked.

Anakin stopped. And then, after a beat of silence, he asked, “You…”

Padmé gave Anakin a look that could only be a cross between exasperation and affection that Anakin was all too familiar with. “There are still _laws_ that journalists and reporters and news sources have to follow,” she said. “Laws against slander and libel and spreading false information—so of _course_ I don’t want those articles out there.” She sighed. “You’re right,” she said after a beat. “Those articles are dangerous and spreading unneeded panic.”

“So if I removed them—”

“But you can’t remove them.”

“Why not?” Anakin asked. “You said it yourself—those articles are _dangerous_ —”

“And how would that look to everyone else?” Padmé asked. “It’ll look like we have something to hide. Like the clones have something to hide. It’ll make them look even _worse_.” She shook her head. “We’ll handle the actual damages of the exaggerated information later—but right now, our first priority is making sure that the clone troopers have the chips safely deactivated and that the veteran affairs are underway without a hitch. Once all that is done, _then_ we can address—”

“And public opinion?” Anakin asked. “That’s got to count for _something_ —”

“Of _course_ it counts for something, Anakin,” Padmé said wearily. “But there are other ways of handling bad press—”

“This isn’t bad press—they’re spreading _lies_ —”

“They’re spreading lies, and we need to give the press something that they can actually cover,” Padmé countered. “We have to leave them with _something_ to work with instead of pictures of loth cats!”

“What’s wrong with loth cats?” Anakin asked defensively.

“Nothing—”

“Really. Because for a second there, it sounded like—”

“I know what it sounded like.”

“Then why did you—are you _mad_ that I—”

“No, Anakin—”

“But you’re not happy,” Anakin said.

Neither of them said anything for a moment.

And then Padmé said, “I’m tired. That’s what I am.” She gave Anakin a sad smile. “Tired of people twisting things into politics when it shouldn’t. Twisting things like family and friends into a matter of politics. Twisting private conversations and memories into politics.” Padmé’s voice was heavy, heavier than Anakin had ever heard it. Like she had been keeping that heaviness locked up for a while. “And I just want it to be over. All of the twisting privacy into something to be used in a political game—I need it all to be over. For everyone. For us.”

And there it was—those last two words that set an alarm bell ringing in Anakin’s head. An alarm bell, associated with memories of Padmé coming in late and looking drained and still getting up for the next day. Anakin had always credited it to the fact that that was just _Padmé_ —that was his hardworking, diligent wife who would say no to retreats and vacations because she wanted to make last-minute edits to a bill or a speech.

But now, Anakin wondered if the weariness associated with her work had to do with something else.

“What’s going on?” Anakin asked at last. “What do you mean—people twisting…” He stopped as Padmé’s eyes shifted away. “You’re not just talking about the photos.” And he suddenly thought of all the times he had only partially joked with Padmé about tagging along to the Senate Building— _aggressive negotiations_ —and all the times Padmé had laughed at him but not really, because—

“I need to go now,” Padmé said, glancing away from the holoprojector. She turned back around, gave Anakin another semi-smile. “Senator Burtoni awaits.”

“Wait—Padmé—”

“I love you.”

Anakin stopped. Padmé’s tone was final: nothing more was to be said. The conversation was supposed to end now, and she was supposed to go back to politics—back to a world of words and memories and privacy being twisted into a game that Anakin still didn’t really understand but tried to. Well, was _now_ trying to. Fighting a war hadn’t exactly given him too much of an opportunity to see beyond what was directly in front of him.

Maybe that part hadn’t changed—the _seeing directly in front of him_ part. Because no matter how hard Anakin tried to think of the situation now, he could only ever see his family and friends directly in front of him.

“I love you too,” Anakin said.

And when Padmé closed out of the holoprojector, Anakin looked down at Luke and Leia. Held them close. Looked around the apartment, looked at the datapad that was still tossed aside.

Anakin looked down at Luke and Leia.

 _For us_ , Padmé had said, and something in Anakin had shifted at those two little words. They were an _us._ Of course they were an _us_ , but there was more to it now, because they had _kids_ , and they had a whole family to look after instead of just the two of them hiding away in alleyways and apartments.

 _For us_.

And Anakin wanted that too—more than anything, Anakin realized, he just wanted nothing in his family to be twisted in something it wasn’t. That was why he had to be kept out of public eye, he knew. That was why the Council requested ( _ordered_ ) for him to be quiet, and he was glad to be quiet because that meant he could be with the kids and be with Padmé, but then—

 _The Jedi is your_ life _, and you’ll have to choose._ Padmé.

 _There’s too much going on right now_ , Anakin thought, letting Luke tug at his fingers. _They wouldn’t_ —

They probably wouldn’t. There had been quiet on the Council’s front. And there was just too much going on. Actually, Anakin didn’t even want to think about what exactly the Council were deliberating on. Anakin had too much going through his own head to even start there. Anakin’s first priority was Padmé and the kids, and Obi-Wan and Ahsoka and Rex weren’t—they weren’t _second_ , Anakin realized. They were just lumped all into one category together.

_You’ll have to choose_.

 _Are you happy?_ Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan had asked that just this morning, and that felt like a million years ago.

 _Yes_. Anakin hadn’t even had to think about it.

 _There’s too much going on right now_ —

But those two little words still stuck in Anakin’s mind, and even despite the fact that there were so many things to be said and done, Anakin suddenly knew what he had to do.

Anakin looked down at Luke and Leia again. “How do you two feel about a little trip?”

\--

Out of all the ideas Anakin had, he couldn’t tell if this was his worst or his best. Most of his plans operated that way, he realized as he pulled into the Senate Building. To his relief, there weren’t too many people around: a few Senate guards, a cluster of Coruscant guards who held their positions as Anakin jumped out of the speeder. Anakin didn’t need them to take off their helmets to know they were tense: the whole building seemed to be holding its breath for something.

Anakin reached to the back of the speeder and took Luke and Leia out of their seats. Booster seats—seats that Anakin had made himself, even though Padmé had gently pointed out to him that they probably wouldn’t be riding out in public any time soon.

 _Well, now they are,_ Anakin thought. And he was glad that he had went ahead and made them anyways.

“Okay,” Anakin said, picking them up. “You guys need to be _quiet_. Okay? We’re surprising Mommy. _Surprise_.”

But Luke and Leia weren’t focused on him: their heads were swiveling around, trying to take in as much of their new surroundings as possible. Of course they were—they hadn’t seen much except the apartment and the buildings out on the balcony. This was probably the whole galaxy to them.

 _A whole galaxy_ — _just wait until we go flying_ —

“Okay,” Anakin repeated, “quiet, remember? _Shh_ …”

To the guards’ credit, they didn’t say or react much except a quick tilt of the head to Anakin. He briefly wondered if maybe he had been seen around here before—actually, now that he thought of it, the guards were probably used to his presence in his…past escapades, but still. Anakin nodded back and hoped that this would all be over soon.

Anakin looked down at Luke and Leia. “ _Quiet_ , okay?”

Leia made a sound that Anakin was pretty sure was a sigh of annoyance.

Anakin couldn’t help it—he grinned anyways.

And then he was walking into the Senate Building.

He felt the tension draw tighter almost right away: he felt it in the hallways as the few senators walking around slowed their steps, and for a moment, Anakin wondered if maybe there were too many eyes watching them. Because this was a _them_ now—not just a him.

“Take a picture,” Anakin said loudly. _Preferably don’t_. “It’ll last longer.”

He heard a few cleared throats, some shuffling feet, felt some of the tension being released from the hallway.

 _Good_.

“General Skywalker?”

Anakin looked up and let out a quiet sigh of relief as the familiar form of Bail Organa made his way through the corridor. The senator looked a little wearier than the last time Anakin had seen him, but he still managed a smile, albeit a surprised one.

“Senator,” Anakin said, well-aware of the eyes focusing back on them now. “I was just on my way to visit Padmé.”

“She’s in a meeting with Senator Burtoni right now,” Bail replied. “But she should be coming back to her office afterwards.” He paused. “But did you…”

“Meant to be a surprise,” Anakin replied.

Bail’s expression softened. “I see,” he said, sounding almost amused. “Well, in that case…” He nodded down to Luke and Leia still squirming in Anakin’s grip. “Would you like a hand?”

“Sure you can handle her?” Anakin asked, handing Leia over to Bail. Leia, to Anakin’s relief and surprise, didn’t whine. She blinked up at Bail with her contemplative eyes, and after a full beat of silence, she smiled. “Never mind—looks like she’s decided you’re worthy.”

“I’m honored,” Bail said, smiling as Leia tugged at Bail’s finger. Anakin remembered that Bail didn’t have any children of his own, but Padmé once told him that Bail and Breha were still on the hunt to adopt. Looking at the gentle look on Bail’s face, Anakin had no doubt that whatever child wound up with the senator would be loved.

“Well,” Anakin said at last, nodding ahead. “Lead the way, Senator.”

\--

But Padmé’s office wasn’t empty when Anakin and Bail walked in.

Senator Burtoni turned around from her seat across from Padmé’s desk, the expression on her face flat and unimpressed by the sudden interruption. And Padmé—she looked unhappy, Anakin noticed. Unhappy and angry and stunned as the doors slid open. Not angry at _him_. At least, Anakin didn’t think so, but still…

“Look at that,” Senator Burtoni said, pushing herself up from her seat. She looked down at Padmé. “My point stands, Senator.”

“We’re sorry, Senators,” Bail said hastily. “We were under the assumption that you two were meeting in—”

“No, no, don’t bother,” Senator Burtoni said, waving her hand lazily. “I was just on my way out, Organa.” She turned back to Padmé. “I’ll offer some of that intel, my dear Senator Amidala—but remember what I said. Consider your choices from here on out.” And then Senator Burtoni was turning back around, making her way across the office.

Anakin caught the smug little look that Senator Burtoni shot his way, and for a second, Anakin wondered exactly how bad it would be if he started aggressive negotiations of his own when Padmé called out from her desk:

“You know, Senator,” Padmé said, “I’d just be worried about your own reputation from now on.” Her voice was ice cold as she continued, “I doubt the Republic will be as favorable to Kamino if you keep making the noise that you call _negotiating_.”

Senator Burtoni bristled. She turned around, ready to speak, but Padmé was already sitting back down at her desk, her eyes on a datapad. “I’ll be looking forward to receiving your intel.”

Another second passed, and then Anakin cleared his throat. “I believe the senator’s finished now,” he said, just barely able to swallow back his own smile. _That’s my wife_ , he thought, shooting Padmé a quick glance.

Another moment of silence.

And then Senator Burtoni let out a soft huff. Walked out the doors, and then they were all alone.

“I’m assuming it went…well?” Bail asked, moving into the office.

“That’s one way to describe it,” Padmé muttered. She looked up from the datapad, both relief and exasperation washing over her face. “What are you two doing here?”

“Surprise?” Anakin asked, waving Luke’s hand.

Padmé looked at Bail.

“I found him,” Bail replied. He held up Leia. “And apparently, your daughter thinks I’m worthy.”

“Of course she would,” Padmé said. “She’d be a fool if she didn’t.” She pushed herself up from the desk, and with a sigh, she said, “It’s not that I’m _not_ happy to see you, Anakin, but what are you…why are the _children_ —really, _now_ , of all times—”

“Yes, now of all times,” Anakin replied. “Really. Now.”

Padmé let out another sigh. She looked at Bail.

Bail cleared his throat. “I have a meeting I should be preparing for,” he said, and he carefully handed Leia over to Padmé. There were some quick exchanged smiles, some exchanged nods—Anakin waved Luke’s hand Bail’s way, and then with a quizzical look at them both, Bail left the office.

The moment the doors closed, Padmé said, “I know that you like surprising me, but don’t you think now’s a little…the timing’s a little—”

“Now’s not ideal, and the timing’s not ideal, but I’ve been thinking,” Anakin said.

“That really isn’t helping the issue—”

“First of all, _hey_ , and second of all, _listen_.” Anakin looked down at Padmé. “What you said before—about wanting all of the twisting to stop. For us.” He dropped one hand from Luke so that he could find Padmé’s hand. He did, eventually. Her fingers were cooler than his, but they were familiar.

“There’s an _us_ now,” he said. “And I’ve been thinking about that.” He nodded to the doors of the office. “And that means that you, Senator Amidala, have been doing things on your own. Fending off all kinds of…” He paused at Padmé’s warning glance to the children. _Okay, fine_.

“Point is,” Anakin said, squeezing Padmé’s hand, “you’re doing things on your own, and that’s not really an _us_ thing, is it?” He lowered his head, just so that his forehead was barely brushing against Padmé’s. “Point is,” he repeated, “let me be there. Let me be here. For the _us_ thing.”

There was a moment or two of silence before Padmé responded. “There’s other things that might interfere with that.”

“Like what? Talk?” Anakin asked. He squeezed Padmé’s hand again. “Then we’ll face it together this time.”

Anakin saw a corner of Padmé’s lip twitch, and then fade. “But there’s…others.” She started to pull her hand away from Anakin, but Anakin held on tight. “Anakin. You know that there’s still…you might be asked to—”

He already knew what she was going to say.

“And I’d choose us,” he said quietly. “I said it before, and I’m saying it again. I choose us.”

“They’re your family,” Padmé said. “Obi-Wan, Ahsoka…” She stopped short, as though she had surprised herself with the last part. Although Anakin wasn’t sure why she would—he was tempted to point out that Ahsoka wasn’t a part of the Order anymore, but he figured that wasn’t going to get him anywhere. That wasn’t the point.

“They’re my family,” he agreed. “But this is my family, too.” He bumped his forehead against Padmé’s again. “Padmé…”

Another quiet.

And then: “what?”

Anakin swallowed. “It’s been five months,” he said. “Almost six now.”

Padmé didn’t say anything, but he felt her shift against him. So he pulled away lightly, just so that he could actually see her eyes. “Anakin…”

“Almost six months of this,” Anakin said. He gave Padmé a slight smile. “I think it’s time to hand in my own resignation to the Order by now, right?”

For a moment, Padmé only looked at Anakin. And looked, and looked, and looked.

“Padmé?”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” There it was—that natural fall of the word, the same natural fall of the word when Obi-Wan had asked if he was happy. _Yes_.

Padmé’s eyes were shining. And then she shook her head.

Anakin found himself smiling. “So?” he asked hopefully. He waved Luke’s hand. “Is this the part where—” He didn’t get to finish, because Padmé suddenly pushed herself up, brushed her lips against Anakin’s.

Anakin smiled against her mouth, heard Luke and Leia coo and giggle—yup, that was giggling, because babies giggled, and it was one of the happiest sounds Anakin had ever heard, next to Padmé’s laughter—and when Padmé pulled away, he found that they were both laughing, too.

So fine—there was too much going on, and there were still problems to fix, but as Anakin walked around to the other side of Padmé’s desk with Luke still in his arms, he had the feeling that at least one thing was settled for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments/kudos/subscriptions are greatly appreciated!


	21. Chapter 21

Obi-Wan truly didn’t think he could be surprised by anything anymore. At least, that much was what he told himself as he stood in the center of the Council chambers.

The room was quiet. Obi-Wan had expected that much, but all the same, there was something jarring about the quiet after what felt like centuries of clamoring news anchors and politicians—even though Obi-Wan knew that in reality, that clamoring had only lasted a few hours.

“Many rumors there have been,” Yoda said at last. “Frightened and worried about the clones and the duchess the people are.” 

Some murmured agreements amongst the Council members. 

“Commander Rex and Ahsoka Tano are currently working with Senator Amidala on the matter of the clones,” Obi-Wan said when the murmurs had died down. He looked around the Council. “I have granted Ahsoka and the commander access to the Archives, should they need any more information. I trust they’ll have a solution soon.” 

A few more murmurs. Some shifting amongst the Council members—not all of them, but enough for Obi-Wan to know why they would look the way they did. Most of the Council members, however, gave slight nods. Obi-Wan caught Plo Koon being amongst them. 

“And as for the duchess…” Obi-Wan cleared his throat. And to think, if Ahsoka and Obi-Wan had only given their report a few days ago instead of now…

He looked around the Council chambers again. No one had said anything. Most of them had their faces carefully blank, some almost gentle. 

And they were still waiting for an explanation. 

“When Ahsoka and I went to Mandalore,” Obi-Wan started, “Duchess Kryze was already alive.” 

Another silence. A few raised eyebrows, a few passive stares, a few nods that _yes, of course she was_. 

“Her sister had found something in the catacombs underneath the Sundari Palace,” Obi-Wan continued. “A healing crystal.” 

“Healing crystals don’t bring people back to life,” Windu said slowly. 

“They don’t,” Obi-Wan replied. “Which makes me reluctant to call it that—but I can’t think of what else it could be.” 

Another silence at the new information. Some more shifting amongst the Council members, this time one of unease. A healing crystal that could bring people back to life—Obi-Wan thought of all the people who would be brought back should someone less rational get ahold of such an item. 

“Where is it now?” Windu asked. 

Obi-Wan tried to remember. The catacombs—everyone had been in the catacombs. Ahsoka and Bo-Katan at the very front, murmuring distantly about artifacts and Mandalore’s history. Rex close behind Ahsoka, looking up and around the walls of the catacombs with a quiet awe and bewilderment. And Satine, walking just a little ways from Obi-Wan, her hand wrapped around the head of the cane and her eyes staring straight ahead. 

And after that—the crystal, with its strange song that Obi-Wan knew only Ahsoka and himself had been able to hear. That strange song and the cool blue glow, and then Ahsoka—Ahsoka had been the one to close her hand around the crystal and bring it back up to the surface. And then Ahsoka had taken it out later, back when they had been with the healers—

“Ahsoka has it,” Obi-Wan said. At the looks exchanged between the Council members, Obi-Wan added, “She has kept it safe thus far. We can assume that no trouble will come to it, not while she has the crystal in her possession.” 

“But she didn’t give the crystal to the healers?” Ki-Adi-Mundi asked. There was nothing cold in his voice—but Obi-Wan noticed the slight wariness in his tone. 

“We were...distracted,” Obi-Wan replied, even though he knew that came off as a bland excuse. He couldn’t remember why Ahsoka hadn’t bothered giving the crystal to the healers. Just that the two of them had been tired, and Anakin had wanted to drag them away anyways. 

_That’s the last time I’ll let Anakin talk me into something,_ Obi-Wan thought. He should have thought about leaving the crystal with the healers. Of _course_ , the crystal would best be suited to the hands of the healers, at least for a real examination…

“She’ll keep the crystal safe,” Obi-Wan repeated. “She hasn’t given us reason to doubt her resourcefulness before.” 

Murmured assents. Obi-Wan was relieved for that much. The Council and Ahsoka may have a strained relationship, but at the very least, they could come to some form of agreement on this matter...although Obi-Wan knew that he would have to tell Ahsoka to bring the crystal to the healers later, if she didn’t come to the same conclusion herself. 

“There are other matters, then,” Windu said, looking to Obi-Wan. “Healing crystals can only be accessed by those who can use the crystal’s energy.” 

“User of the Force, this person would have to be,” Yoda supplied. 

Obi-Wan was starting to count the number of silences in the Council chambers thus far. He was sure this had to be at least the third time. Maybe the fourth. More likely the fourth. Possibly the fifth? 

He cleared his throat. 

“That would be Korkie Kryze,” he said. 

Everyone looked up at Obi-Wan this time. Properly looked at him, and Obi-Wan wondered if he really needed to say anything at all. 

“Duchess Kryze’s nephew?” Windu’s voice was slow, careful. 

Obi-Wan managed a wry smile. “There are many rumors, but the one about Korkie Kryze’s true relation to the duchess wasn’t a complete lie. He is her son.” 

The sixth silence—Obi-Wan knew that this had to be the sixth silence. 

He cleared his throat again. “And mine.” 

_Mine_ —that word felt strange in Obi-Wan’s mouth. Foreign, even though he had learned so many different languages. 

“And you’ve confirmed this?” Windu asked. 

“I have.” 

“And you are sure of…” 

“She was not lying.” 

“A grave thing to lie about, I would think,” Ki-Adi-Mundi said softly.

Obi-Wan only nodded. He turned back around the rest of the Council. Some members’ expressions had shown just the faintest traces of uncertainty now: others seemed to be concentrating on the space above Obi-Wan’s shoulder, while others looked almost amused. Which Obi-Wan wasn’t sure he appreciated quite yet. 

“I’m not certain how Mandalore might fare under the sudden attention,” Obi-Wan said at last. “With both Duchess Satine and her heir now in the public eye. But as of now, they wish to remain involved in the efforts to welcome their world to the clones.” 

“If their world stabilizes,” Windu said slowly. 

“Gar Saxon was killed and the rest of Death Watch disassembled,” Obi-Wan said. “That much of the threat has been cleared.” 

“Other matters of concern with Mandalore, there are,” Yoda mused. “ _Much_ distrust— _much_ uncertainty.” 

“I agree,” Windu said. “The Senate would be slow to trust Mandalore in any further dealings.”

“We are not the Senate,” Obi-Wan pointed out. 

“No, we are not,” Plo Koon said. He clasped his hands together. “But this is a difficult situation. It will take some time.” 

“A helpful ally for the aid of the clones, Mandalore would be,” Yoda said slowly. 

“A plan will be needed,” Shaak Ti offered. 

All eyes turned to Obi-Wan now.

Obi-Wan lifted his shoulders. 

“About that,” he said.

—

Obi-Wan found himself standing at the landing platform a few hours later. Satine and her guards were already waiting for him. She gave him a quick nod, and for a moment, he thought she would smile, but they settled for just another nod instead. Obi-Wan decided it was best to settle at that. 

And then they were both looking up to the late afternoon sky. A few speeders passed by, a few sleepy-eyed senators walked past. Some seemed to ignore Obi-Wan and Satine completely; others hovered for just a moment before going on their way. Each time, Obi-Wan felt oddly...visible. Exposed somehow.

He wondered—and then he knew that Satine felt the same, because she shifted just a little to her side, her hand readjusting around the head of the cane. 

“Has he been to Coruscant before?” Obi-Wan asked at last, his eyes still searching the skies. 

“No,” Satine replied. Her voice was quiet. If Obi-Wan hadn’t been listening, the sound of speeders might have drowned her out completely. “Although he has always wanted to visit. Wanderlust.” 

“Naturally,” Obi-Wan replied. 

A pause, and then Satine asked, “And the Council meeting…”

“They agree the clones need all the allies they can get,” Obi-Wan replied. He tilted his head at Satine. “If a significant amount of trust is regained, then that might do the effort some good.” 

Satine nodded. She turned back around to the skies, a strand of her hair falling past her face. She reached up to brush it over her shoulder, tilted her face up. Her eyes widened, and Obi-Wan realized that he hadn’t been looking at the skies as he had meant to. 

“There,” she said, pointing. “The ship.” 

Obi-Wan looked up. 

He found the vessel easily: a sleek grey model that traversed through the lines of speeders with a quick ease. Perhaps too quickly—Obi-Wan wasn’t sure. He wondered briefly if the child was a reckless pilot, and then he wondered if the child liked flying at all. 

The vessel landed on the platform quieter than Obi-Wan expected. So perhaps a skilled pilot, after all.

He waited. 

And then the vessel’s door slid open, and the first thing Obi-Wan noticed was that he was taller than Obi-Wan expected. Taller, a little more muscular in the shoulders. A head of auburn and golden curls that seemed to blend in together under different rays of light. He was turned away from them, speaking to a guard inside. So not a pilot. Obi-Wan couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying: just quiet murmurs, a small laugh. A gentle one, Obi-Wan realized. 

And then the boy turned around. 

Obi-Wan found blue eyes, a lock of auburn hair falling past the boy’s forehead. A narrow nose, lips curved in a nervous little smile that was directed at Satine.

“Korkie,” Satine said, relieved.

“‘lo, Au—Satine.” Korkie slipped over that beginning word with a little bob of his head. He had his hands at his sides, and Obi-Wan noticed that his fingers twitched ever so slightly. 

“Korkie,” Satine said, gesturing to Obi-Wan. “This is…” She looked at Obi-Wan questioningly. For a moment, they both searched for words to fill in the next gap, and Obi-Wan wondered why for the life of him he couldn’t quite—

“Master Kenobi,” Korkie said, bowing his head quickly. He looked back up at Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan saw the careful blankness on the boy’s face. Obi-Wan knew, he realized with a jolt, because he knew that he had looked the same on multiple occasions. “It’s a pleasure to meet you at last.” 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too,” Obi-Wan replied automatically. He knew that there should have been other words exchanged. _Pleasure to meet you_ —the introduction seemed too simplistic and too bland for whatever this encounter was supposed to be. Meant to be.

“Did you have a safe trip?” Obi-Wan asked, nodding towards the vessel.

Korkie blinked. “Yes,” he replied. He adjusted his bag over his shoulders. “Our trip was most uneventful.” 

“Uneventful can be good,” Satine said. 

Korkie gave Satine a lopsided smile. “I suppose I can’t argue there.” 

Satine smiled in a way that told Obi-Wan that the two had had a conversation like this before. Then, clearing her throat, she turned to Obi-Wan. “Perhaps we should…”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan replied automatically. Everything was automatic. He gestured away from the platform. “Your apartment awaits.”

“You’ll be in an apartment not too far from mine,” Satine told Korkie as the three of them started away. “My guards will be just moments away.”

Korkie nodded, gave Satine a small smile that she returned. And then his eyes were drifting away, up to the Coruscant skyline. 

“First impressions?” Obi-Wan heard himself ask.

Korkie looked away from the skyline quickly, and Obi-Wan realized the boy hadn’t expected to be addressed right away. 

“Big,” Korkie replied. “And bright. I don’t think I’ve been in a place quite as large as this one before. Or as...deep.” He looked at Obi-Wan. “Are there really ruins in the lower levels? And do some people really not see the upper levels at _all_?”

“Some people,” Obi-Wan confirmed. “As for ancient ruins…I believe so, though I’ve never gone.”

“Ah.” 

“No,” Satine said. 

“No what?” Korkie asked.

“No, you’re not allowed to go to the ruins.”

Korkie made a small sound that Obi-Wan thought was a cross between a groan and a sigh. 

“Korkie—tell me that you won’t go to the ruins.”

“I won’t go to the ruins,” Korkie replied obediently. A beat later, he added, “Even though the ruins would be completely deserted.” 

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” Obi-Wan said. “There are rumors of strange beings down there.”

“It’s a good thing I’m used to strange then, isn’t it?” 

Everyone paused at that. 

“I meant studies,” Korkie said. “I’ve seen...strange things. From readings. Soniee once was able to give me a virtual tour into one of the old medical facilities. She was there for some research...” 

Obi-Wan knew that wasn’t at all Korkie had meant, but still, he drifted into a brief note about his friends. (Amis had completely shaved his head, and “he looks strangely better with no hair”. Lagos had taken the sole position of making sure the new cadets weren’t causing any trouble, so “really, nothing’s changed”. Soniee still had her head buried in her tablets and computers, and it was only a matter of time before “Lagos has a heart attack because Soniee decided to hack into a class.”) 

Korkie started to smile a little bit as he was speaking of his friends: a group that he had been with since his own days in the academy. And for a little while, Obi-Wan might have genuinely believed that Korkie only wanted to share information of his friends and his time in the academy—he learned of Korkie’s adventures in his brief time under Ahsoka’s wing, and he wondered exactly what Ahsoka would have to say on the matter now. 

“Ahsoka’s here now,” Satine said. “Perhaps you could see her again.” 

Korkie smiled. “That would be nice,” he said. “But at a later time? I’ve heard she’s rather...busy. Things are busy,” he corrected.

Another pause, but this time, it was shorter.

“I’m sure she’d be happy to see you,” Obi-Wan said. 

Korkie nodded again. 

—

They reached the apartment eventually. 

Korkie set his bag on the ground and slowly looked around the apartment. He looked out the window, and Obi-Wan couldn’t quite make out the boy’s expression: he was turned away. 

“Are we allowed to speak freely now?” Korkie asked at last. 

“Yes.” 

“Alright.” Korkie looked away from the window. His face was determined, decided as he looked back at Obi-Wan and Satine. Mostly Satine. Obi-Wan found that they couldn’t quite maintain eye contact for longer than a few seconds. There was something odd about eye contact when the eyes staring back were his own, Obi-Wan realized. 

“I won’t waste your time,” Korkie said. “I understand why I’m here. I’ve seen the news. And so has Mandalore.” 

“Yes,” Satine said softly. 

“So,” Korkie said, rolling his shoulders, “I’ll do what I have to to make sure Mandalore gains back trust. Just tell me what’s needed.” There was no resignation or weariness in Korkie’s voice: just a solid matter-of-factness.

“We only need you to be present,” Obi-Wan said. Korkie turned quickly to him, and for a moment, Obi-Wan saw a flash of something cross Korkie’s face. A hesitation that Obi-Wan didn’t think Korkie expected either, because his eyes suddenly were distant, and for a heartbeat, he didn’t move or react. Only looked and looked and looked for what might have been a second or a year. 

“I can do that,” Korkie said. He turned back around to Satine. “When do I need to...be present?” 

“Tomorrow,” Satine replied. “There will be a push tomorrow.” 

Korkie nodded again. 

The three of them stood spaced apart in that apartment for a few moments before Korkie asked, “Is there anything else I should be concerned about?” 

“Are _you_ concerned about anything?” Obi-Wan asked. 

Korkie looked at Obi-Wan again. 

“If you have questions…” No, that wasn’t right. 

“Whatever questions you have—about anything,” Obi-Wan said quietly, “I’d be more than willing to answer them.” 

They stood in silence. 

“I don’t have any questions right now, Master Jedi.” 

_Master Jedi._

A quiet reminder, or perhaps a quiet acknowledgement of time. 

Obi-Wan nodded. 

—

“Knew you’d be here.”

Obi-Wan looked up. 

Anakin was standing in front of him. He pulled out a chair, sat across the table. 

“Congratulations,” Obi-Wan said, looking back at the computer. “For finding me.” 

“Thank you, thank you.” Anakin dragged the chair around the table, blatantly ignoring the awful sound its legs made against the ground. Obi-Wan winced, but Anakin ignored that too. He leaned over, looking at the computer screen. “Why’re you looking up the Coruscant ruins?” He blinked, looked at Obi-Wan. “And there’s _ruins_?”

“You’ve learned about them before,” Obi-Wan said.

“Did I?”

“You _should_ have learned about them before.” 

“Well, if I _should_ have…” Anakin flashed Obi-Wan a crooked smile. “Are we surprised?”

“No,” Obi-Wan replied. “Not at all.” 

Anakin smiled again. And then, leaning back into his chair, he crossed his arms. “So why’re you looking at Coruscant ruins?”

“Something that Korkie brought up,” Obi-Wan replied neutrally. He closed out of the window. Meant to close out of the window.

“So you met him?” Anakin asked after a while. 

“Yes.” 

“And…?”

“ _And_ ,” Obi-Wan said, frowning at the screen. The window had frozen. He clicked, but nothing happened. “And why won’t this—”

“Just give it a second. These computers need to be replaced,” Anakin said, knocking away Obi-Wan’s hand. “And?”

Obi-Wan set his hand on his lap. “ _And_ ,” he said, “he didn’t have any questions. Or comments. He’s here for Mandalore and Mandalore alone.” 

“He didn’t ask about…?”

“I don’t think he felt the need to.” Obi-Wan looked at Anakin. “This is probably a confusing time for him as well. I don’t expect him to involve himself in any more than he wants to.” 

“And you’re fine with that?”

Obi-Wan gave Anakin a crooked smile of his own. “He’s not a child,” he said. “He makes his own decisions.” He turned back to the computer and clicked at the window again. This time, it actually closed. “Can I ask what you’re doing out of your apartment? And what you’re doing here, for that matter?”

“What, I’m not allowed to visit?” 

Obi-Wan gave Anakin a sidelong glance.

“I saw Padmé,” Anakin said after a beat. 

“And how is she? And the others?”

“Rex and Ahsoka are still at the detention center. She was wrangling Senator Burtoni.” 

_Wrangle_ was a good word. Obi-Wan smiled. “I’m sure.”

“And…” Anakin shifted a little in his seat. After a pause, he said, “Padmé and I talked. And before I get into anything, I know that you’ve been...doing a lot. For me. Always have been.” 

Obi-Wan paused. He looked at Anakin fully this time. 

Anakin looked nervous: _now that’s a look he doesn’t always wear._

But he looked nervous—a little excited, but still nervous. 

“What is it?” Obi-Wan asked. 

A moment of silence. 

And then Anakin looked up at Obi-Wan. “I want to leave the Order,” he said. “That’s why I’m here.” 

Obi-Wan blinked. 

And strangely, he wasn’t surprised. 

_Are you happy?_ he had asked just earlier that day. 

_I’m happy,_ Anakin had replied. 

“Did you just…” Obi-Wan gestured vaguely out the doors.

“No,” Anakin said. “I’m about to. I just thought I should let you know first.” 

They were quiet. 

“Obi-Wan? Are you—can you—” Anakin looked at Obi-Wan. “Can you say something?”

Nervous—Anakin still looked nervous, and Obi-Wan realized _oh._ Anakin was still waiting for him to respond. 

And he thought that was ridiculous—he thought Anakin should and would know by now. 

“Well,” Obi-Wan said, standing up. “We can’t be late for you to hand in your own resignation.” 

“We?” Anakin asked faintly. 

“Come now, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said. “Allow your old master this one last thing.” When Anakin remained bewildered, Obi-Wan sighed. “Yes, Anakin. _We._ I can’t let you walk in there by yourself, now, can I?” 

“You’re not—”

“Not what?”

“I don’t know. Disappointed?” Anakin’s voice was smaller than Obi-Wan had ever heard it. 

Obi-Wan paused. “Are you happy?” he asked. 

A moment passed. And in it, there were years. 

“Yes.” 

Obi-Wan smiled. “Then I have nothing to be disappointed about.” 

Anakin smiled then, and a part of Obi-Wan ached—but still, in that ache was some hope for his dear friend. 

“Now come along,” Obi-Wan said. “It’s not every day a master sees off his former student.” 

When they were out in the hallway, Anakin said, “Don’t think this changes anything. I’m still going to visit you.”

“Yes, Anakin.” 

“I know the vents of the Temple better than anyone, too. So maybe I’ll surprise—”

“One thing at a time, Anakin.” 

Another silence.

“Yeah. One thing at a time.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in case you didn’t see my announcement on tumblr: my laptop is officially broken. Luckily, I can still write on my school’s computer/chrome books, and I’ll be getting a new laptop in about a week or so...I promise I’ll still stay on top of this story, but that’s my situation right now. 
> 
> As always, comments/kudos/subscriptions are greatly appreciated!


	22. Chapter 22

“So this pulse...experiment,” Padmé said slowly. “You think it might be what we need to de-chip all the clones?” 

“That’s what was suggested to us,” Rex replied. “At least, that was as much information the Kaminoans were able to give us. The quickest and presumably safest way to get all the chips out at once.” 

Padmé nodded. She had looked surprisingly better than Ahsoka expected when Rex and Ahsoka had reached her office. No proper communication or terms were reached with Senator Burtoni, it seemed, but all the same, Padmé’s mood had seemed oddly...relaxed. Ahsoka wasn’t sure it was, but she decided that she could chalk it up to the fact that Rex and she at least had a solution now. A solution that didn’t involve a healing crystal, but a solution all the same. “And if there’s anything…” 

“That was all the information we got,” Ahsoka replied. “We can start implementing that now. How long would it take to get the Senate to approve?” 

“Hopefully not as long as we’d think,” Padmé replied with a wry smile. She looked at Ahsoka and Rex. “The Senate will be just as eager to find out some kind of solution to the matter of the chips. The information will be presented right away—but we’ll need to put it together first. I can rally some of the other senators, while you…” She smiled a little at Rex. “How do you feel about drafting a statement?” 

A silence. 

And then Rex asked, “Ma’am?” 

“A statement,” Ahsoka said. “Like, giving to the Senate?” 

“That’s exactly what I mean,” Padmé replied. She looked at Rex expectantly. “Gather anyone else who might want to contribute—but I think it should be coming from you. From the clones.” 

Ahsoka looked over at Rex. He looked genuinely surprised, and a little confused, and most of all, Ahsoka found, _nervous_. Nervous was certainly a foreign look on Rex, the kind of look that Ahsoka hadn’t seen him wear too often. Then again, she figured she’d be nervous if she was about to give a statement that might potentially determine the state of all clone troopers. 

“I’ll help you with it,” Padmé said. “And Ahsoka—” 

“I can look at it too,” Ahsoka replied quickly. At Rex’s curious look, she added, “Padmé’s given me some lessons of her own.” 

“You can trust Ahsoka to keep her end of the bargain,” Padmé said, looking to Ahsoka. 

“Trust isn’t the issue,” Rex replied, and Ahsoka felt something warm in her chest. “But if you…” 

“I want to,” Ahsoka said quickly. She stopped short, looked up at Rex. “I mean, I won’t write your statement, but I have a feeling you won’t need me to. But what I’m _saying_ is…” She let out a breath. “I want to, and I’m here. And I want to be here. I’m just not going to take the spotlight.” 

Rex huffed out a breath. “Who said anything about a spotlight—” 

“We’ll worry about that part later,” Padmé interrupted gently. She looked at the two of them. “In the meantime...why don’t you two get started?” She gestured around the office. “You can even have this space for the day, if you want—I’ll be busy getting some support, anyways.” 

“It’s fine,” Rex replied. He looked at Ahsoka. “We have our own space.” 

Ahsoka grinned. “I’ve been meaning to drop by there,” she said. She paused. “It’s probably a mess.” 

“We’ll clean,” Rex replied. 

“We’ll probably have to.” 

Another exchanged smile. 

“Well,” Padmé said, “in that case, I won’t keep you two.” 

They bowed their heads to each other—and when Ahsoka lifted her head, she found that Padmé was wearing a gentler, happier expression than Ahsoka had seen in a while. Again, she thought it was all very funny, considering how talks with Senator Burtoni went, and for a moment, Ahsoka wondered if she should ask. But looking at Padmé, Ahsoka had the feeling that maybe whatever news there was would be shared later. And right now, Ahsoka and Rex had to settle things on their own anyways. 

“We’ll see you later then, Senator,” Ahsoka said, and with that, Rex and she walked out of the office. 

And then they were walking through the halls, and then out the Senate Building, and this time, both Rex and Ahsoka walked in the direction of the driver’s seat. 

“Are we switching off now?” Ahsoka asked, sliding into the passenger seat. “Is that what’s happening?” 

“Don’t act so surprised,” Rex replied as he started up the speeder. 

Ahsoka smiled a little to herself. She leaned her head back against the seat and watched the Senate Building slowly grow smaller and smaller as Rex flew them away. The sky had turned into a slightly deeper shade of blue, the kind that it took right as it hit the latter part of the afternoon, but Ahsoka already felt as though they had gone through a very, very long day. Mostly because they had, Ahsoka supposed. Visiting the detention center—visiting the _Kaminoans_ was difficult enough. 

And now all that lay before them was writing the draft, making the request to actually make the pulse project work…

 _Pulse Project_ , Ahsoka thought, opening her eyes. _That’s a nice title_. 

Ahsoka’s stomach growled. She was pretty sure that was the first time it had growled all day. She couldn’t even remember if she ate breakfast this morning: actually, yes, Anakin might have shoved food at her on her way out of the apartment. That was something she had started to learn about Anakin. Fatherhood made him shove food at everyone. 

Ahsoka briefly wondered what Anakin was doing now. The last she had seen him, he had been moving things around the apartment. Messing with the baby toys and also what Ahsoka was _fairly_ certain was a miniature speeder. 

And then there was Obi-Wan...he had still been sleeping when Ahsoka and Rex left. Which was good, Ahsoka decided. They had all slept like the dead, and Ahsoka wondered what exactly Obi-Wan was doing now, too. She decided that she would find out soon enough.

“Hungry?” Rex asked. 

Ahsoka blinked. And then, giving Rex a sheepish smile, she replied, “Was it really that loud?” 

“I’ve heard louder,” Rex replied. 

“That’s nice.” Ahsoka shifted a little in her seat. “But yeah—food first, then head to the office?” 

Rex nodded his agreement. “Sounds like a solid plan.” 

“Duh.” 

They got their food eventually, and only a little while later, Ahsoka found herself standing in the little office. Even though Ahsoka knew that it had only been a few days, she felt as though the last time she had been in this place had been months and months ago. 

She flicked on the light, set the food down on the little table that she had used when countless clone troopers had come in discussing their leaving the army. Ahsoka looked at the desk pushed to the corner, where her datapad still sat charging. Ahsoka considered checking the datapad then, but the sound of the door closing behind her brought her back. 

“Well,” Rex said, looking around the office, “home sweet home.” 

“Home sweet home,” Ahsoka agreed. She tugged out a chair and sat down. She pulled out their sandwiches, pushed one of them towards Rex. For a while, they ate in silence, and in the meanwhile, Ahsoka looked around the office. She didn’t think anyone broke in—she had been sure that anyone who tried to break into the small office would get a nasty surprise, and there was nothing that told her something had happened while Rex and she were gone. 

But still, the place felt different. 

Not a _bad_ different, necessarily, but different. 

Ahsoka finished her sandwich in a few more bites. “So,” she said, brushing the crumbs off her lap, “drafting the statement.” She looked at Rex. “Ready to do Padmé’s homework?” 

\--

They got through three-quarters of the draft writing before they both set Rex’s datapad aside. 

“It looks good so far,” Ahsoka said. She leaned back against her seat. “Here, try reading it out—that might help with the delivery when you give it later. And I’m sure Padmé will give us comments later.” She glanced at the chronometer on the wall, and then she blinked. She hadn’t been aware of how much time had passed. Then again, they had spent most of their time agonizing over every sentence. 

“Read it again,” Ahsoka repeated. 

Rex gave Ahsoka a wary look before picking up the datapad. “Senators,” he began. “Citizens of the Republic.” He paused, looked at Ahsoka. When she nodded, he looked back down at his datapad. “I am Commander Rex—and like many soldiers of the Grand Army of the Republic, I was born and bred on Kamino. And today, I ask you to—” Rex let out a frustrated breath, set his datapad down. 

“What is it?” Ahsoka asked. 

“The rest,” Rex replied. He scooted the datapad towards Ahsoka. “I’m supposed to say all of this to the Senate, and none of this sounds like...what it should sound like.” 

Ahsoka paused. And then, quietly, she asked, “What _do_ you want it to sound like, Rex?” 

For a moment, Rex didn’t say anything. 

Slowly, he said, “I’m not a politician.” 

“I know you’re not.” 

“But I know what _matters_ here,” Rex said. He tapped his hand against the screen of the datapad. “And frankly, I don’t think any of the political talk is actually going to be helpful.” He scrolled his finger through the screen and added, “Normal people can barely listen to the senators without getting confused about what their _points_ are. And those are the people that need convincing, too.” He looked at Ahsoka. “If I’m—if _we’re_ —going to convince the Republic to carry through with this operation, then it needs to actually come out the way that’s understandable to everyone, doesn’t it?” 

Ahsoka looked down at the datapad. 

“Can I see that again?” she asked. 

Rex shrugged and pushed the datapad forward. 

Ahsoka picked up the datapad. She looked through the draft. There _were_ some incredibly political-jargon-sounding sentences in the draft, some of which Ahsoka was fairly certain she had only ever heard from other senators. But in the draft, she couldn’t hear Rex, she realized. She looked back up at Rex. 

“Okay,” she replied. 

She deleted the whole draft. 

Turned the datapad back to Rex. “Write like yourself, then,” she said. She paused. “And maybe we can call in some back-up now.” 

Rex’s eyebrows jumped up. “I thought you said that…” 

“Not senator back-up,” Ahsoka said, a corner of her lips twitching. “Padmé _did_ mention that you should call other clone troopers, didn’t she? I’m sure there’s more than enough who are willing to pitch in their voices.” 

At that, Rex let out a short huff of a laugh. “They’ll be bursting at the armor,” he said. He set down the datapad. “Right. We’ve got some people to contact.” 

\--

Less than half an hour later, the little office was crammed with more clone troopers than Ahsoka had ever seen. Then again, most of the time, she had only ever seen clone troopers maybe three at a time at _most_ , but right now, there were so many familiar faces sitting at the table, the desk, the floor, or just leaning against the wall. 

“You can’t say _that_ ,” Jesse said, snatching up the datapad away from Rex at one point. 

“Since when did _you_ —” 

“No, he’s right, Commander,” Kix said, looking over Jesse’s shoulder. He looked at Rex with a sheepish smile. 

“Consider this an intervention,” Jesse muttered, sitting right on the table. Rex shook his head, looked at Ahsoka. She just grinned and sat on top of her desk, legs crossed as she took in the sight. Cody was leaning on the wall next to Ahsoka’s desk and he, too, looked amused at the troopers trying to swipe the datapad away from each other. 

“Not going to try to intervene, Commander?” Ahsoka asked Cody. 

“Eventually,” Cody replied. He nodded at Rex. “Seems fair to let him dangle for just a little longer.” 

Ahsoka bit back a laugh as Rex said, annoyed, “I _heard that_ —” 

\--

Eventually, the office grew dark, and Ahsoka wound up ordering more food. The office smelled like not unpleasantly of grease and spices, but Ahsoka opened the windows anyways. She was pleasantly full and also pleasantly tired— _pleasant_ being something, Ahsoka realized, she hadn’t fully felt in a long, long while. A few times, Jesse tossed the datapad her way to keep Rex from reading over the draft. Ahsoka danced around the table while Rex tried to grab it back. Jesse and Kix would laugh, and Cody would crack a smile, and then Ahsoka made a grand flourish of handing the datapad back to Rex. 

More clone troopers trickled in eventually. Troopers who Ahsoka and Rex had already sent on their way who had gotten wind of the news and were responding to the call for input. The hubbub of noise slowly grew into a buzz and babble filled with the occasional joke and shout that might have earned them a few strange looks from pedestrians outside. But Ahsoka didn’t care, and neither did anyone else. 

The office was so busy and pleasant that Ahsoka almost didn’t notice the alerts popping up on her own datapad, which she had left sitting on her desk all the while. 

But now, she looked down at the datapad and found, to her relief, that they were only messages from Anakin. 

She opened up the messages, and then her heart skipped a beat at the first alert: _i’ve got some news_ — _figured you should hear it from me first. Also, pick up your holoprojector calls._

Ahsoka slipped her holoprojector out of her pocket. Sure enough, there were multiple missed calls. She looked around the office, caught Rex’s eye. She mouthed _taking a call_ , and he nodded, flashing her a brief thumbs-up. _A thumbs-up_ , Ahsoka couldn’t help but think. _That’s new_. It was a good kind of new.

Ahsoka stepped out of the office and closed the door behind herself. She looked around the street: there weren’t too many people out, but still, Ahsoka ducked in the little alley (it really wasn’t an alley: more like a small space between Ahsoka and Rex’s office to the shop next door) and called Anakin. 

“What’s wrong?” Ahsoka asked the moment Anakin appeared on the holoprojector. 

Anakin blinked, and then he made a face. “Why did you assume something was wrong?” 

Ahsoka didn’t bother giving an answer. 

“Okay, fine, that’s fair,” Anakin said. And then, he said, “But nothing’s wrong.” 

“Really?” Ahsoka asked. “Because your message made it sound like there was.” 

“How did my—” 

“ _I’ve got some news_?” Ahsoka suggested. 

Anakin paused. “Fine,” he said reluctantly. “I can see that.” 

“Victory,” Ahsoka said. 

Anakin rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.” And then he smiled a little, and Ahsoka was suddenly reminded of Padmé for some reason: of that same relaxed little smile and nod, and for a moment, Ahsoka wondered how it was that the two of them seemed so relaxed now—but then again, maybe that was how marriage worked, but Ahsoka couldn’t be sure. 

“So what’s the news?” Ahsoka asked. “Is there something…” 

“There’s nothing wrong,” Anakin said quickly. 

“Okay.” Ahsoka lifted her brow. “Then what is it?” 

At first, Anakin didn’t say something. _That was new, too._

“Anakin?” 

“Right. Yeah. Give me a second.” 

_Anakin Skywalker, needing a second?_ Ahsoka thought. This whole day had all kinds of surprises. 

But she waited anyways. 

And then Anakin took a deep breath—Ahsoka could actually _hear_ how deep the breath was, and maybe it was just her own weary bones, or maybe it was that little connection she had with Anakin, but she could have sworn she felt that breath rattle around in her own lungs. 

And then, at last: 

“I left the Order.” 

Ahsoka blinked. _Oh._

“Ahsoka?” 

“You left? Now?” Ahsoka asked. Her voice came out higher-pitched than she expected. She hadn’t expected that part. _Huh_. “Like, just now?” 

“Just now,” Anakin confirmed. “Obi-Wan actually…” He let out a breath. Again, Ahsoka could have sworn she felt it in her chest. “He actually went in with me. It’s all done, Snips.” He paused. “I mean, there’s still some other little things I have to get done: moving some things out and all. I’ve still got all this…” Anakin craned his head around, and even though Ahsoka couldn’t see his surroundings, she knew that he had to be in his old quarters in the Temple. His old quarters, where it was probably still cluttered with droid parts and starfighter models that Ahsoka used to sometimes poke and play with when Anakin wasn’t looking. Posters that Ahsoka hadn’t ever seen before. A Tatooine-woven blanket that had all these patterns that made Ahsoka’s head spin. 

“Wow,” Ahsoka said at last. “Um. _Wow_.” She blinked again. “That’s...did you decide that just now?” 

“Decided this...afternoon, actually. Earlier. Before. After Rex and you left,” Anakin replied. He was quiet for a moment, and then he added, “But I think the decision was made up beforehand. Just took me long enough to finally get around to it.” 

“Yeah.” Ahsoka couldn’t think of anything else to say. 

“Ahsoka?” 

“Yeah?” 

“You there?” 

Ahsoka blinked. “Yeah,” she said. “I’m here.” She looked at Anakin, and she saw that the relaxed smile had been replaced by a ridiculous amount of caution and—

_Hope._

There was hope in Anakin’s face right now, and Ahsoka suddenly realized that Anakin actually looked years and years younger than he had since she had ever known him. Hope was a good look on him, Ahsoka realized. 

“So that’s why Padmé looked so happy,” Ahsoka finally managed. “Did you…” 

“I told her first.” 

Ahsoka nodded. Smiled. “I’m glad,” she said. “I’m really glad.” She paused, and then she looked down at the base of the hologram. Felt the little twinge of disappointment in her chest and wondered if Anakin could feel the same. 

And he did, because he asked, “Something on your mind?” 

Ahsoka looked back up. 

He still looked hopeful, but now there was some apprehension there. The slightest knitting of Anakin’s brows because, Ahsoka realized, she wasn’t reacting the way that he thought she would. 

_How was she supposed to react?_ Ahsoka wondered. She had learned how to let go. She _knew_ how to let go—she was living _proof_ of knowing how to let go. And yet…

 _And yet_. 

A conversation past on the couch was what brought Ahsoka back to this moment. This time, a conversation with Padmé about making decisions and maybe making a return herself. And Ahsoka realized now that she must have really planned to return, because now she felt—not angry or disappointed, but a little sad knowing that Anakin wouldn’t be there when she came back. 

And yet—

She had thought about _when_ she came back. Not _if_ she came back. _When_ she came back. 

And Ahsoka realized that maybe there were some chapters that weren’t quite meant to be closed: not for herself, at least, even if the chapter had closed for her former master. A chapter, Ahsoka realized, that he had closed for himself. And that he had wanted to close for himself. 

Ahsoka wondered how long he had been waiting to close the chapter himself now—he must have waited a long while. She _knew_ that he had been waiting a long while, just as she had been waiting a long while to open this new chapter for herself. 

She decided those were probably good looks for them. 

“I’m happy for you,” Ahsoka said, and she found that she meant it. Completely, wholly meant it. And then, with a sheepish smile, she said, “I was just…” 

She paused, and then, before she could lose her nerve, she said, “I was thinking about joining the Order. Again.” 

Now it was Anakin’s turn to blink. 

After a moment of silence, they both gave each other a sheepish smile. 

And they spoke at the same time: 

“ _Are you serious_ —” 

“ _I know, it’s_ —” 

“Wait, _when_ —” 

“I _meant_ to tell you, but I wasn’t—” 

Finally, Anakin said, “Before—you said something about needing to _be_ something. That was what you meant. Before.” 

“Maybe,” Ahsoka replied. She gave Anakin a crooked smile. “I’m still...juggling the idea in my head. But I’ve just been…” She glanced back at the office and suddenly, she saw the nights there, and she recalled memories even further back: a certain night crashing into a young mechanic’s garage, a certain siege on a different world, and then this. And then another skirmish on a moon, coming back to a mess of news and tangled threads that she had to untangle herself. She looked back at Anakin and found that his face had softened. “I’ve just been thinking that I’ve...done well, haven’t I? And I think—” Ahsoka took a deep breath of her own, and she somehow knew that Anakin could probably feel it in his chest too. “I just think that maybe it’s time for me to stop doing work as a citizen and start doing work as a Jedi. And maybe do some more help that way. I can _do_ more.” 

She took another breath and, reaching into her pocket, she withdrew the healing crystal from the folds of her clothes. She had wanted to use the healing crystal to fix the chips in all the clone troopers’ heads, and yet, now, looking down at the crystal, Ahsoka realized that there was just one last use that she needed to bring out of this crystal. Her mind floated to the detention center, to a certain person whose skin had been paler and who looked wearier than Ahsoka had seen last. And she suddenly understood why she’d kept getting calls. 

There was still ice in her heart, Ahsoka realized. Still a dull pain that throbbed from the inside-out, but looking down at the healing crystal and looking at the path in front of her, Ahsoka realized that there was at least one more thing she had to do before she could walk free. 

“The Jedi aren’t perfect,” Ahsoka said quietly. “I can’t expect them to be.” She looked at Anakin. “But I can expect myself to try.” 

A corner of Anakin’s lips quirked. “You know what Master Yoda says…” 

_Ever the teacher_ , Ahsoka thought. Some things wouldn’t change.

She smiled back. “Fine,” she said. “I can expect myself to _do_. Right?” 

Anakin paused. And then he nodded. A small nod, but a nod followed by a smile that made Ahsoka realize that was all she really wanted from him. 

They were both quiet. 

Ahsoka realized that her eyes were oddly damp. Not a bad kind of damp, like the kind that had stung Ahsoka’s eyes as she walked down a certain set of steps. But a good kind of damp, the kind that made Ahsoka smile a little more. And even though the hologram was flickering in front of her, Ahsoka saw something shine a little in Anakin’s eyes, too. 

“I’m proud of you, Ahsoka,” Anakin said. He gave Ahsoka a smile. “No matter what—I’m proud of you.” 

Ahsoka let out a short laugh. It came out a little shaky, a little watery, and a lot right. 

A lot right. 

\--

Which was how Ahsoka found herself standing in front of a certain cell once more. This time, Rex wasn’t beside her. 

She was alone this time, with only a healing crystal in her pocket. 

“You’re dying,” Ahsoka said. “Aren’t you?” 

A thin smile. “They say it’ll only be a little while now,” Barriss replied. “I expect that...the Force will be waiting for me soon.” 

Ahsoka swallowed. She looked down at the crystal in her hand. And then she looked at Barriss. “I spent a long time wondering why you did what you did,” she said quietly. “And I was angry at you.” She folded her hand over the crystal. She looked at Barriss. This time, she met her in the eye. “Did you only want to talk to me because you were dying?” 

Barriss was quiet. 

And then she said, “I’ve been wanting to speak to you for a long, long time. Even before.” 

Ahsoka’s eyes stung. “You could have,” she said. “Spoken to me before.” 

Barriss gave Ahsoka another sad smile. 

And Ahsoka briefly wondered what could have been—if they actually _had_ spoken, and Ahsoka wondered if maybe things would have been different. If perhaps there would have been a different kind of friendship that wouldn’t have ended in a cell in a detention center in a darkened corner of Coruscant. 

“We might not have been able to speak then,” Ahsoka said slowly, uncurling her fingers around the crystal, “but we might be able to speak now.” 

She looked at Barriss. 

Barriss only looked back at Ahsoka. “Aren’t you still angry with me?” 

“Maybe,” Ahsoka replied. The crystal glowed in her palm. “But I can’t let that anger consume me anymore. And I don’t want you to let it consume you, either. That or anything else.” And slowly, she took Barriss’ hand. It was cold in hers. 

But when Ahsoka was finished, Barriss’ hand was warm. 

\--

Ahsoka brought the crystal to the healers afterwards. 

And then she walked out to the Temple steps and watched the sun set. 

A few minutes later, she heard footsteps come her way. 

When Anakin sat down, she did too. 

They watched the sun set. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments/kudos/subscriptions are greatly appreciated!


	23. Chapter 23

“You wish to leave the Order?” 

Anakin brought his hands to his sides. “Yes, Master,” he said. He cleared his throat and, looking once around the Council chambers, he added, “I don’t think I can fulfill my duties as a part of the Order anymore.” 

“Come to this decision alone, have you?” Yoda asked, and Anakin couldn’t quite read those sage brown eyes. They were old eyes. Anakin was pretty sure Yoda had taught nearly every Jedi at some point or another. He wondered how many times Yoda must have sat in these Council chambers and watched as other Jedi left or were banished. 

Anakin lifted his chin. “I have,” he said. “I’ve thought about this for a while.” He paused. “As hard as that might seem.” 

He heard a short laugh that was poorly disguised as a cough from somewhere else in the Chambers. Anakin’s shoulders loosened at the sound. The Council, normally so solemn—and still so solemn, even with the laugh—regarded Anakin with a different kind of wariness that Anakin wasn’t quite used to. Actually, he wondered if this was the kind of wariness that must have filled most of the Council meetings after the end of the war. 

“And you are sure of this decision?” That was Windu—the master’s eyes were trained carefully on Anakin, but he didn’t sense any disapproval. That was a good sign. Anakin tried to look for some other good signs, but the rest of the Council were quiet. Watching. 

Anakin brought his hands behind his back. Somewhere behind him, Obi-Wan was watching on. 

_Are you happy?_

“I’m sure,” he replied. He tilted his head and waited as the Council seemed to shift amongst each other. 

“His master, you were,” Yoda said then, lifting his head. He was looking beyond Anakin. “Obi-Wan. Thoughts, have you?” 

Anakin felt movement behind him, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Obi-Wan bow his head to the Council. Anakin wasn’t sure exactly where Obi-Wan stood with the Council now either, but still, he couldn’t help but feel a little glad for his friend for at least that regard. 

But Anakin kept his eyes ahead, waited as Obi-Wan lifted up his head again. “He has made his decision,” Obi-Wan said. “And as for duties…” For a moment, Obi-Wan’s voice drifted, and Anakin nearly turned to look at him. 

But then Obi-Wan cleared his throat, and when he spoke again, Anakin detected the slightest dip in his voice, though it wasn’t the one of disappointment that Anakin had feared. 

Obi-Wan glanced over to Anakin now. 

Anakin looked back up at Obi-Wan. 

“I don’t doubt Anakin will find something else,” Obi-Wan said at last. “Or that he hasn’t found something else already.” He lifted an eyebrow at Anakin—a silent question in whether those words were correct. 

Anakin nodded slightly. Just barely, but that was difficult to do when he felt like there was finally _something_ that was right. He hadn’t realized how right it would feel, and Anakin wondered if he should feel surprised at all by that—but then Anakin heard some more shuffling amongst the Council, and he quickly faced forward. 

For a moment, no one spoke. 

Anakin looked steadily forward to where Windu and Yoda were sitting. 

He waited for some reaction—any reaction. 

And then Windu straightened. Anakin found himself straightening too, even though he wasn’t sure how much more possible that could be. 

_Well, it’s possible now_ —

Windu glanced over at Yoda. And then Anakin saw a little smile tug at the corners of Yoda’s mouth, and Windu just gave the slightest, slightest shake of a head. But not one of disagreement, Anakin realized as Windu turned back around to Anakin. But one of slight exasperation, and perhaps, Anakin realized, looking at Yoda’s neutral expression, one of realizing that someone had perhaps lost a bet. 

Anakin didn’t have time to try to piece out that reaction though (save for think, _were they betting on…?_ ) before Windu leaned forward. 

“In that case, Anakin Skywalker,” Windu said, fixing his gaze back on Anakin, “we ask you to leave in peace.” A corner of his lips twitched then too, and Anakin found himself smiling back—a tentative, slow smile, but a smile nonetheless. (And that was funny: Anakin was smiling at Mace Windu, the man who Anakin had more often than not butted heads with.) “May the Force be with you.” 

A silence. 

And then, an addition: “And your family.” 

This time, Anakin didn’t bother holding back his smile. 

“Thank you,” he said, bowing his head, “Masters.” 

When he lifted his head, he found small smiles and gentle eyes and some mild exasperation—all expressions that Anakin wondered if he had actually paid attention to at all, if ever. He didn’t think he did, but now, Anakin realized that whether he liked it or not, these _were_ the people he had been surrounded by for a good portion of his life. Not quite his family, but not quite strangers, either. 

_Well_ , Anakin thought, turning around to Obi-Wan, _maybe that wasn’t quite true, either_. 

\--

So when Anakin found out that Ahsoka was planning to come back to the Order, he didn’t know whether to be shocked or be...actually, no, he was pretty sure _shocked_ covered it.Ad he wondered if he was supposed to have seen the signs himself, and he was still trying to remember things Ahsoka might have said or done to have signaled that she might be returning to the Order—

She _did_ go back to Mandalore—

But she had done that as both citizen and friend—

But then there were other things, like her quiet cringe at the idea of being _taught_ a certain way, and Anakin...realized that Ahsoka was still waiting for his answer bhy the time he finally re-focused on Ahsoka’s face. 

And he found that Ahsoka was looking so ridiculously hopeful and also nervous—nervous in a way that Anakin now wondered might have been his very own reaction just a few hours ago, when he had first told Obi-Wan about his own resignation to the Order. 

Only instead of a resignation—

In the end, Aakin decided to laugh. That was all he could do—laugh and wish Ahsoka well, because he hadn’t seen this coming. (And that was something crediting to her own subtlety, Anakin supposed. He realized now that subtlety hadn’t always been his own strong suit. He was glad that at least Ahsoka was subtler than himself.) 

And in the end, when Anakin shut off the holoprojector, he realized that he would be proud of Ahsoka, too. He had made his decision; she had made hers. 

He thought that was something worth celebrating. 

\--

“I can’t remember the last time I was here,” Anakin said, pushing aside one of the droid parts sitting at his desk. His old desk. The one that he usually hovered over while working on whatever new project it was he was working on. Anakin picked up a model starfighter, turned it over in his hands. He looked over his shoulder to find Obi-Wan hovering in the doorway. 

Obi-Wan was looking around the room, seeming both mildly impressed and also exasperated by the clutter. “You didn’t clean this place up even _once_?” 

“Well, I was busy,” Anakin said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. That felt strange, too. There had once been a time when he had seen this room more as a halfway point—one that was more like a resting stop in between nights with Padmé and nights on cruisers light years away, but now, the place held a different weight that had nothing to do with the clutter or the thin layer of dust coating everything. 

Anakin looked around the room. “Well,” he said. He set the model starfighter back on the desk. “Did you see this coming?” 

“The mess, or…?” 

“Well, the mess is a given,” Anakin replied, reaching up to bring down a poster. The colors had faded over time, and one corner of the poster was slightly curling even before Anakin started to roll it up. He looked over his shoulder again. Obi-Wan had moved to the other side of Anakin’s desk. He picked up one of the other models, a semi-amused smile on his face. 

“This one’s missing a wing,” Obi-Wan said, turning the model over for Anakin to see. 

“I was fixing that,” Anakin replied. He looked down at the ground, tilted his head. “Actually, I think there might still be some parts rolling around under there…” 

Obi-Wan ducked down to his knees. A moment later, Obi-Wan said, “These aren’t _some_ parts, Anakin, there’s a whole _mountain_ —” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Anakin said, scooting down on his knees. He swept a hand under the desk, scooted the said mountain of spare parts out to the floor. He coughed a little around the cloud of dust, ignored Obi-Wan’s pointed look. 

“I _told_ you,” Anakin said, waving aside the dust, “it’s been a while.” 

“Clearly.” Obi-Wan rose to his feet and looked around the room. “There has to be something you could…” 

“Boxes over there,” Anakin said, gesturing. 

“Ah.” A moment later, Obi-Wan scooted over a small crate and started putting the parts inside. Anakin watched him for a little while. “These _are_ your things, Anakin. Feel free to start any time.” 

“You’ve found me out,” Anakin said. He stood up, dumped the now rolled-up poster into the crate. “You still didn’t answer, by the way.” 

“Answer what?” Obi-Wan asked, plucking the poster out of the crate and rolling it up tighter. Anakin rolled his eyes as Obi-Wan stuck the poster back in the crate. “Don’t look at me like that, Anakin, it’ll save room later.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Anakin replied, but he made sure to roll up his other posters a little tighter too. “But did you expect this at all?” He handed the rolled up poster to Obi-Wan, who set it in the crate. 

Obi-Wan didn’t respond at first. He ducked down to sweep up some more parts, and only after dragging out another crate did Obi-Wan reply, “I suppose I did.” 

Anakin paused. “You suppose…” 

“A part of me wondered,” Obi-Wan replied. He looked at Anakin. “And then I knew. I would think that happens,” he added. “With people who know each other for as long as we have.” 

Anakin’s throat closed. He tapped the rolled-up poster against the crate. After a beat, he said, “Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “And not just about before—but...everything else.” He flitted his eyes up to Obi-Wan’s face, looked back down. “Since the start—thank you.” _For being on my side_. 

Because Obi-Wan _had_ been on Anakin’s side—he saw that now, and Anakin wondered why he hadn’t been able to see it before. 

But he saw it now, clearer than he had seen it before. 

Obi-Wan’s face softened now. And then he lowered his head. 

They didn’t need to say much else after that. 

They worked through the rest of Anakin’s belongings with a quiet swiftness that only came after years of getting used to each other’s movements and rhythms. Anakin found himself tossing certain things to Obi-Wan without having to look where his former master was—and alternatively, Anakin needed to only lift up a hand to catch whatever it was Obi-Wan was passing him. 

When they were done, they both sat down on the ground. 

Anakin knocked his foot against Obi-Wan’s. 

Obi-Wan huffed out a small breath, but he knocked his foot against Anakin’s, too. 

“Ahsoka says she’s coming back,” Anakin said after a little while. 

Obi-Wan turned to Anakin. “Really?” 

“Really,” Anakin replied. “I think she’s been planning this for a while, too.” 

Obi-Wan smiled, resting his head back against the wall. “Well.” 

“Did you expect _that_?” 

“I’ll...admit I didn’t _quite_ —” 

“ _Ha_ —” 

“Well, did _you_?” 

“No, but that’s not the point.” 

Obi-Wan huffed out another breath, closed his eyes. “That’ll make for an interesting event in the Council chambers.” 

“Do you think the Council will….” 

“Of course they will,” Obi-Wan replied automatically. 

Anakin relaxed. He hadn’t even thought he needed to relax, but now he did. “Good,” he said. “She was…” He thought. Ahsoka’s eyes had been bright, and even though she had just been a hologram, Anakin could practically see the energy radiating off her. Energy that Anakin now realized had been pent up for a long, long while, and was now finally being pushed out. Which, Anakin realized now, was something that he would have wanted for Ahsoka anyways. 

“She was excited,” Anakin said at last. “I think she’s excited.” 

“That’s good,” Obi-Wan said. “Excited even…” 

“Yeah.” 

Obi-Wan made a small sound. “And so things change again, he said quietly. 

Anakin smiled a little, closing his eyes too. “Yeah,” he replied. Padmé had said something similar before, Anakin knew, but he couldn’t remember how long ago those words had been. A century ago, he felt. But not a century ago. 

“What about you?” Anakin asked at last, looking over to Obi-Wan. 

“What about me?” Obi-Wan asked. He, too, opened his eyes, nudged his head against the wall so that he and Anakin would be face-to-face. 

Anakin let a corner of his mouth quirk into a smile. “You’re not exactly immune to change either,” he replied. 

“I never said I was,” Obi-Wan replied. 

“Could have fooled me.” 

“Anakin. We’re sitting in _your_ room. Which _we_ just packed, in case you haven’t noticed.” 

“Yes, thank you, Master.” 

“You’re most welcome, Anakin.” 

The two lapsed back into silence before Anakin asked, “But in all honesty—how was he? How was the…” Anakin almost said _reunion_ , but that didn’t feel like the right word. A reunion implied that Obi-Wan had met all the parties before. “The meeting?” 

Obi-Wan didn’t say anything for a little while. He opened his eyes, and after another moment of silence, he said, “It could have gone worse.” 

He adjusted against the wall and added, “He’s careful, which can be expected.” 

Anakin thought of the boy that he had briefly met at Mandalore. That was a whole lifetime ago, but he could remember an excited smile, the look of awe when the boy had met Anakin and Ahsoka. He tried to imagine what the kid would look like if he was being _careful_ , but all Anakin could see was still the boy’s beaming face when reaching the landing platform. 

“He’s still in school,” Obi-Wan said at last. “He has friends.” He paused. “He’s a good actor.” 

Anakin had the feeling that Korkie didn’t recite a soliloquy to prove that part. 

“And?” he asked. 

“And,” Obi-Wan said, looking over to Anakin, “he’s…” He cleared his throat. “We have the same eyes.” 

Blue. Grey. Sometimes green, depending on the light. 

“Did he…” Anakin gestured. “Say anything else? Do anything?” 

Obi-Wan paused. “He has ideas of his own in terms of handling public opinion about Mandalore.” 

“So...politics?” 

“Mandalore is his home—I would be surprised if he wasn’t concerned about its well-being,” Obi-Wan replied. 

“And everything else?” 

Obi-Wan gave Anakin a halfhearted smile. “Some things take precedent over others, Anakin.” 

“But not over _everything_ ,” Anakin replied. “How long is he staying here?” 

“A few days.” 

“You two can’t talk about politics the _whole time_ ,” Anakin said. 

“He doesn’t seem to have any questions or any interest in talking about much else,” Obi-Wan commented.

“He’s a kid—how can that be the only thing he talks about?” 

“That’s the only thing he’s willing to talk about with me,” Obi-Wan replied. 

Anakin turned to the opposite wall. 

“He’s being careful,” Obi-Wan repeated. “No one can fault him for that.” 

“I can fault him for that,” Anakin said. 

“Don’t.” 

Anakin sighed. After a beat of silence, he asked, “So that’s it? You two are just going to…pretend like there’s nothing to talk about?” 

“I didn’t say that.” 

“That’s what it sounded like.” 

“There _will_ be a conversation at some point or another,” Obi-Wan replied. “I doubt that we can maintain the silence for long.” 

Anakin paused. Korkie Kryze had _both_ Satine and Obi-Wan’s blood running through his veins, so he wasn’t entirely sure if…

But then again, Obi-Wan had surprised Anakin before. 

“In that case,” Anakin said, “let me know who quotes poetry first.” 

“Poetry?” 

“ _The sarcasm of a soldier_ ,” Anakin mimicked. “ _The delusion of a dreamer_ —” 

“Anakin.” 

“Yes?” 

“Please stop.” 

“As you wish, Master.” 

\--

“He’d be an idiot,” Anakin said as they set the crates down in the apartment. 

“Hm?” 

“Korkie. He’d be an idiot if he didn’t talk to you at all,” Anakin replied. 

Obi-Wan was turned away from Anakin, tugging some parts out of a crate. But now he paused. 

“I mean it,” Anakin said. 

Obi-Wan was still bowed over the crate. 

Anakin was about to turn back around when he heard Obi-Wan’s voice.

“I know you do.” Obi-Wan turned slightly, and Anakin realized that there would never be a time in which there wouldn’t be the two of them. 

Which was why when Obi-Wan’s comm beeped, Anakin found that he didn’t feel any of his old exasperation when he took the call. 

Anakin heard Satine’s voice, and then he heard what Anakin knew had to be Korkie’s voice—it was a little deeper than Anakin remembered, but that was definitely him. When Obi-Wan looked back up at Anakin, he gave a little shrug. 

“Let me know about the poetry later,” he said. 

Obi-Wan gave Anakin a smile that he had received enough times to know that his former master was only partially annoyed. 

“I’ll let you know,” Obi-Wan said when he left.

\--

Anakin went back to the Temple one last time. The Council were a little surprised to see him back so soon, but he thought they ought to know that they might have another surprise coming their way. He noticed Plo Koon straighten a little, and Anakin shot the master a quick smile before walking back out. 

He walked through the halls alone. He passed the training rooms and the courtyards and the Archives, and then he passed through the doors, and then he found Ahsoka sitting at the edge of the steps. 

“Don’t think this means you’re getting rid of me,” Ahsoka said after a while. “If the Council allow me back—” 

“ _When_ the Council allows you back—” 

“ _When_ the Council allows me back,” Ahsoka said, rolling her eyes, “I’m still going to be around.” 

“I know you will,” Anakin replied. “ _omeone’s_ got to keep the kids company.” 

They grinned at each other. 

And then, after another while, Ahsoka said, “A lot’s changed.” 

“Not everything,” Anakin replied, thinking about certain smiles and sunsets and silences. 

Ahsoka was quiet, and Anakin wondered what his former apprentice was thinking. 

But then she said, “No. Not everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments/kudos/subscriptions are greatly appreciated! 
> 
> And because I'm extra, I've created a playlist for this story [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0OAFOZxWQjUKh1ZacJscM2?si=THqy-jEYQByg8rzqDVQV8g).


	24. Chapter 24

In hindsight, Obi-Wan should have known that Korkie could be the one to open the door.

And yet he was surprised anyways.

"Korkie," Obi-Wan said, nodding his head slightly.

"Master Jedi," Korkie replied, nodding back. He stepped away from the door and turning away, called, "He's here." He glanced backwards at Obi-Wan once, and with another nod, he moved into the rest of the apartment.

At first, Obi-Wan thought he was meant to follow him, but then Satine came walking in from the other side of the apartment.

"Good, you're here," Satine said. She was still dressed in the same clothes as she had this morning, albeit she looked more tired. They all did, Obi-Wan supposed. "I've been meaning to ask you about next steps." She gestured behind herself to the living room. Obi-Wan spotted astill activated datapad, running through with what Obi-Wan knew had to be a speech.

Catching him looking, Satine gave him a wry smile. "I've finished writing," she said. She cleared her throat and looked to the side. "Korkie added some of his own input, too. He's quite talented when it comes to these kinds of things."

Obi-Wan glanced over at Korkie. The boy was sitting at a desk, his head bent over a datapad of his own. Obi-Wan knew Korkie could hear them though—they were, after all, in the same room, but still Korkie didn't look up.

"So we thought it only fitting that you might offer your own perspective," Satine said, drawing Obi-Wan away from Korkie.

Obi-Wan paused. "Are you sure that's—"

"As a Jedi," Satine added quickly. A Jedi's perspective on these matters. After all, you were there for...most of Mandalore's troubles in the last few years." At that, she gave a slight, if not wary smile at Obi-Wan.

"I suggested we ask Ahsoka," Korkie said. "But we know she's busy with other matters." He stood up from his desk and, sliding his datapad to the couch, he added, "But if you are busy as well…"

"No," Obi-Wan replied automatically. He looked at Satine. "Although I'll admit some surprise—I believe this is one of the first times you've asked my opinion on something you wrote."

Satine smiled a little at that. "Well, times are changing. Although," she added, "I'll ask the Negotiator not to quite get used to the feeling just yet."

Obi-Wan managed a dry smile. "I never did quite like that title," he said. "I suspect that was meant to be a jest."

"Well," Satine said, turning around and reaching for the datapad, "the jest has worked well." She passed the datapad to Obi-Wan. "Tell me what you think once you finish reading it."

Obi-Wan nodded. He looked down at the datapad, although he couldn't quite make out the words. He was a little more aware of the silence that seemed to stretch between Satine and Korkie and himself. And he had grown accustomed to certain kinds of silences before: he had mastered some of them before, and those silences were usually the ones that resulted in Anakin groaning or Ahsoka asking a question or _something_.

That _something_ now took form in Satine clearing her throat.

"Maybe," she suggested, "you should sit down?"

Obi-Wan blinked up from the datapad.

Satine was giving him a semi-amused smile. "It's not a terribly long speech," she said, but I would think that you'd feel a little more comfortable sitting own rather than standing to read through it all."

"Quite right," Obi-Wan managed. He sat down on the couch to where Satine gestured. "Thank you for the offer."

"Of course," Satine replied. She leaned back against the couch, looked over her shoulder. "Korkie, you should come join us over here, too."

Obi-Wan lifted his head briefly from the datapad. Korkie was still hovering at his desk. He gave Satine a short smile. "I'll join in a moment," he said, looking back down at his own datapad. "I only have this assignment to complete."

"You could stand to complete that assignment over here, can't you?" Satine's voice was gentle, and ObiWan got the sense that Satine had used that tone on Korkie before. It was a well-practiced one, and a different kind of softness than Obi-Wan had heard before. This was the voice Satine used with children, Obi-Wan realized.

And clearly, Korkie was used to this voice too, because his face softened just the slightest.

"If you don't mind," Korkie said at last. He was looking at Obi-Wan.

"Not at all," Obi-Wan said. After a moment, he added, "You don't need to ask for permission from me."

Korkie only gave Obi-Wan a close-lipped, wry smile before sitting down on the opposite couch.

 _So this is what it feels like_ , Obi-Wan thought.

He looked back down at the datapad. He heard the slight shift against the couch, and then the lightest taps of fingers against a screen. Next to him, Obi-Wan felt the weight of the couch dip a little as Satine adjusted herself in her seat.

Obi-Wan focused on the words this time around.

He found that he couldn't quite tell which lines were written by Satine and which were written by Korkie. Save for a few lines, all the wording was consistent—the boy seemed to have caught onto political writing.

Obi-Wan glanced up at Korkie again.

The boy had balanced the datapad on his knees, and he was typing in a manner that made Obi-Wan wonder if he was writing anything at all—or if he even had an assignment to begin with. There wasn't any way someone could be hitting the exact same keys in the exact same pattern for as long as he was now.

"Well," Obi-Wan said, passing the datapad back to Satine.

"Well?" Satine repeated.

"I only have some suggestions," Obi-Wan replied. "Although I'm not quite sure if you'll actually _take_ them."

"You make it sound as though I _never_ take your suggestions."

"Do I?"

"What suggestions do you have?" Korkie asked. He looked up from his datapad now, and save for the slightest wrinkle between his brows, his expression was neutral.

"Only a matter of some wording," Obi-Wan replied. He tried to keep his own tone neutral as he added, "Some of the phrases sound accusatory."

"Well," Korkie said, swinging his legs down from the couch, "one could say the very same of the people who spread rumors of Mandalorian affairs." He looked at Obi-Wan. "I don't think they had a problem with sounding accusatory."

"Which is why it's more vital to appear all the more level-headed," Obi-Wan replied. He glanced over to the datapad in Satine's hands. "And the rest of the speech is just that—but the rest of the Republic is critical of even the slightest misstep."

"Misstep," Korkie repeated. "I see."

His tone suggested anything but.

Finally, Satine broke the silence.

"I have to disagree," she said, looking at Obi-Wan. "Accusatory or not, I won't stand by and let my opponents discredit myself or my world."

"I hope you don't mean to call the Senate your opponents when you address them," Obi-Wan said wearily.

Satine narrowed her eyes slightly. "Did that sound accusatory, too?"

"You heard it yourself, didn't you?"

"In any case," Satine said, turning away, "I agree with Korkie. The Senate can stand a few accusations."

"It might not help your case," Obi-Wan warned.

"It might open some eyes," Satine replied sharply. "And it might wake some napping senators."

They looked at each other for a moment.

 _Stubborn_ —she was so _stubborn_.

Out of the corner of his eye, Obi-Wan could see Korkie watching them with an expression he couldn't quite read, not with Korkie only in the periphery.

"I thought you said you wanted my perspective?" Obi-Wan asked at last.

Satine paused. And then she looked at the coffee table. "I do," she said after a little while. "But if all you have to offer is for me to sound _gentler_ , then I'm afraid I can't follow that advice."

"It's not a matter of being _gentler_ ," Obi-Wan said. "Far be it from me to suggest that." When Satine gave him a sidelong glance, he added, "But I _do_ see this as a matter of presentation. The Senate has enough reasons to distrust you and the rest of Mandalore—giving them one more reason for them to add to that distrust and dislike won't help matters."

"And you say you dislike politics," Satine murmured.

"I dislike politics," Obi-Wan agreed. "But I would hope you know that I didn't dislike reading the speech otherwise."

At that, some of the hardness on Satine's face faded. She managed the smallest of smiles—really nothing more than the slightest twitch of her lips, but it was still perhaps more than Obi-Wan thought could be otherwise done for the situation.

"Yes, Obi-Wan," Stine said. "You can rest assured I know."

Now it was Obi-Wan's turn to give his own slight smile—and then, glancing to the now darkening windows, he said, "If that was all…"

He started to stand up, but Satine said, "You won't stay for a little longer?"

Obi-Wan looked at Satine. She was looking up at him too, though that only lasted for a second, because she was on her feet too.

"Dinner will be here in only a few minutes," Satine added. "And I thought perhaps it might be good to…unwind."

Obi-Wan glanced over Satine's shoulder once to find Korkie still sitting on the couch. He was determinedly looking at the coffee table, and Obi-Wan wondered if the boy had any say in this at all. But when he looked up, Obi-Wan couldn't find anything to suggest outright hostility. Just a weariness and a wariness, Obi-Wan realized. For a seventeen year old, both seemed a little strange for the boy to carry.

Then again, Ahsoka was his age—and Obi-Wan knew that she, along with so many other children who got caught in the war or in the political crises of their own worlds, had grown up too fast.

Korkie lifted his chin a little now, but that was the only getsure before he, too, looked away.

"Yes," Obi-Wan heard himself say at last. "I'll stay."

\--

That was how Obi-Wan found himself a few hours later, sitting at a circular table that at least had saved them all the trouble of figuring out who sat where. Everyone was at least equidistant from one another, which Obi-Wan found that he appreciated. Satine was to his right; Korkie was to his left.

For a few minutes, they all ate in relative silence—a few clinks of silverware against the plates, a few gentle thuds of cups against the table.

"You write well," Obi-Wan said at last, looking over at Korkie.

The boy paused. He glanced up at Obi-Wan, his eyes not quite meeting Obi-Wan's. "Thank you," he said before dropping his head back down to his plate.

"Korkie has always done well in his studies," Satine said warmly. She, too, looked up from her plate. "All his instructors think rather highly of him."

"Not just me," Korkie said with surprising swiftness. "Lagos and Soniee are probably going to be tied for top of the class."

"And that's good for them," Satine said with a little smile, "but we are talking about _you_."

Korkie shifted some food over on his plate.

"Is there something wrong with—"

"No," Korkie said. "Food's fine."

Another silence passed before Obi-Wan asked, "Do you have any favorite classes?"

"I don't mind my history classes," Korkie replied. "Or my politics classes."

"Any particular reasons why?"

"Ahsoka was a good teacher," Korkie replied simply.

"With much hands-on experience," Satine said with a pointed nod.

"It was her class that got my friends and myself thinking more about the corruption in our own government," Korkie added. He poked at another stray bit of food. Obi-Wan watched him poke at it again before finally spearing it through. "So if my politics classes can teach me any more on how to root out that corruption, then I'd gladly take the chance to learn more from them." He lifted his eyes up to Obi-Wan, almost as though in challenge.

And that was all very odd, because Obi-Wan found that there could be a number of things Korkie could be challenging him _to_ , and he had yet to pick out exactly which one he had to approach first.

"Goodness knows we need more of that energy," Obi-Wan said at last. He nodded to Korkie. "I look forward to hearing more about your future endeavors."

"And what a list of endeavors that will be," Satine said. "And in the meantime—"

"Do you really?"

Both Obi-Wan and Satine paused as Korkie set his fork down next to his plate.

"Look forward to hearing of my... _future endeavors_ ," Korkie said. He scooted away his plate. "Do you really, Master Jedi?" He looked up at Obi-Wan. There was no malice in the young face, just that same weariness and wariness. "After all, there is much to do. Listening for news about someone on the other end of the galaxy seems a bit trivial in the long-term, doesn't it?"

Obi-Wan met Korkie's stare. "I don't see it as trivial," he said quietly, after some time. "Far from it."

Korkie's expression remained unchanged. "Those are kind words, Master Jedi—"

"You don't have to call me that."

"I would prefer to."

"And you would prefer to because…"

"I think a smart man like yourself would know my reasons."

"Humor me," Obi-Wan said.

"Perhaps we should—" Satine started, but Korkie was already speaking, too.

"I'm not a child," Korkie said. "I know who you are to me, and you know who I am to you."

The table fell silent.

" _And_ ," Korkie added, "I know enough that acknowledging such a connection in public would do _both_ of you no good." He was looking at the space between Obi-Wan and Satine. "So please," he added quietly, pushing himself away from the table, "you'll have to forgive me for wanting to ease that burden for all of us."

"Korkie—" Obi-Wan wasn't sure if it was Satine or himself who spoke first—and Obi-Wan dimly registered that that was the first time he had actually called the boy out by name. He heard the scrape of a chair as Satine left to follow Korkie—but there was the hiss of a door being closed, and the sound of knuckles rapping against the metal. Unanswered knocks.

"Korkie," Satine said quietly—but not quietly enough for Obi-Wan to not hear. "Please. Don't do this."

No reply.

Satine dropped her forehead against the door. For a moment, her shoulders sank, but then Satine pushed herself away from the door and turned around to Obi-Wan.

He was standing. He didn't remember standing, but he was, and as Satine slowly walked back to him, he didn't sit back down.

"That's not even his room," Satine said after a beat. "This isn't his apartment. And he'll have to come out eventually." Under the actual light of the lamp hanging above them, Obi-Wan could see that Satine's eyes were a little red. But her voice remained steady as she repeated, "He'll come out."

Obi-Wan tried to catch Satine's eyes, but she was looking away, wiping a hand abruptly over her face. "We should take care of these," Satine said, glancing down at the table. "Can't have them sitting around—"

Her hands were trembling a little as she grabbed ahold of one of the plates. Satine picked it up, moved it over to the small kitchen. Obi-Wan heard the clatter of the plate against the counter and followed.

"Satine," Obi-Wan started.

Satine was turning on the water, one hand blindly reaching for the soap dispenser. "If you could bring some more of the plates—"

"Satine."

Satine found the soap dispenser, but—

"No soap. Of course," Satine murmured. "What did they _expect_ — _really_ —"

" _Satine_." Obi-Wan stepped forward, plucked the soap dispenser out of Satine's hand. He twisted the nozzle and set it back down on the sink. "It was just new."

Satine stared down at the soap dispenser.

The faucet dripped.

"I'm—"

"Please don't. Not you," Satine said.

"I didn't say anything."

"I know what you're _going_ to say," Satine said, still staring down at the soap dispenser.

Obi-Wan would have smiled if he felt he had the energy to.

Unfortunately, he did not.

"A bold claim," he said.

Satine didn't reply.

"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan said, and Satine let out a long, shuddery breath.

"See, I was afraid of that," Satine said weakly. "For once, Master Kenobi, I would like you to prove me wrong."

"I'm afraid that won't be happening any time soon, Duchess," Obi-Wan replied. He tried to smile again, but this time, Satine actually looked up at him, and that brief bit of energy crumbled away. _Ah_. Obi-Wan turned away from the sink, tried to remember exactly what dishes he needed to bring to the sink anyways, but then he felt Satine's hand settle against his wrist.

"Obi-Wan…"

Obi-Wan let himself be dragged back around so that he was looking down at Satine.

When he dipped his forehead, he found Satine's easily.

Satine squeezed his hand.

He squeezed back.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "He—"

"He was going to say something sooner or later," Satine said. "And he should. And it's good that he's...managed to say something now. Even if…"

She didn't have to finish that sentence. There was enough pain to be shared between the two of them to know where that sentence was going.

So they stood together in silence instead, unable to move from that kitchen until they could both remember how to breathe again.

\--

Obi-Wan woke up to hearing a door hiss open.

He felt warm and slightly stiff at the neck, and when he looked down, he found Satine at his side. For a disorienting second, Obi-Wan couldn't remember how that happened—they had just both sat down on the couch, and then—that must have been how they fell asleep, that had to be it—but now Obi-Wan's attention was dragged away to the sound of quiet steps.

Obi-Wan watched Korkie's shadow make its way across the apartment and to the actual door. Korkie paused for a moment, and Obi-Wan wondered if Korkie was going to turn back around, but no, the door slid open, and he was gone.

Obi-Wan craned his neck to the chronometer. Nearing eleven.

He felt Satine stir against him. A sleepy sigh, and then, "Ben—"

"Go back to sleep," Obi-Wan whispered.

"No," Satine murmured, her eyes fluttering open. She lifted her head briefly. "I thought I heard...door—"

"Korkie," Obi-Wan replied quietly. "He left."

Satine made a small sound. "Without saying goodbye?"

"I'm afraid not," Obi-Wan replied.

At that, Satine sighed. She dropped her head back against Obi-Wan's shoulder, and for a moment, Obi-Wan thought that she was going back to sleep, but no, she suddenly lifted her head back up. Then, pushing herself away, Satine reached for her cane.

"Silly child," she murmured, standing up. "Just leaving like that—"

"He's probably off to bed already," Obi-Wan said, watching Satine look for her shoes. "We can talk to him tomorrow."

Satine paused. She looked at Obi-Wan with a strange look on her face.

"What is it?" Obi-Wan asked.

" _We_ ," Satine said. "You said _we_."

Before Obi-Wan could think or ask any more of that, Satine picked up her shoes. "I'm not sure if anyone ever let you know of this secret, Obi-Wan, but it's bad form to go to bed ever still feeling angry with someone."

"I know that much, yes," Obi-Wan said, pushing himself off the couch, "but there can also be said about making someone even _angrier_ before going to bed."

Satine didn't seem to hear him. Either that, or she was just ignoring him. Most likely the latter.

When Satine walked out the door, Obi-Wan followed.

\--

Only when Obi-Wan and Satine both stepped out in the hall, they found that Korkie was not in his apartment at all—rather, they only just came out in time to see the lift doors close to bring a certain boy down to the lower floors.

"Where does he think he's going?" Satine asked, exasperated.

"Perhaps visiting Ahsoka," Obi-Wan suggested, but even as he said those words, he highly doubted it. He didn't think Ahsoka was picking up her comm right now, if she was even as half as busy as Obi-Wan suspected she was.

Obi-Wan and Satine looked at each other.

They took the lift down.

\--

At first, they didn't see Korkie at all. Which was difficult, because at this hour, there were only a few other people awake and still walking around the hallways—and for a moment, Obi-Wan thought they had actually lost him, but then he spotted a familiar head of auburn hair walking at the very end of the hallway, towards the front of the building.

"There," Obi-Wan said, pointing.

Satine nodded, and they started walking, following—and the whole time, Korkie didn't turn his head once. He walked and walked and walked until he stopped at the row of speeders at the front of the building. In almost no time at all, Korkie had slipped into one and was just starting up the engines when Obi-Wan and Satine reached the platform.

" _Kor_ —"

But the rest of their calls were drowned out by the sounds of traffic and other revving speeders, and Korkie dove into the night.

"Does he usually do this?" Obi-Wan asked, looking at Satine. "Go on nightly escapades?"

"Only once," Satine said, "and that was when I was being held captive by Almec."

"But there's no one here who's being held captive," Obi-Wan said. "There's nothing here for Korkie to want to—" He stopped. And then he looked at the speeders, and then he looked at Satine. " _History_. He said he likes history."

"Yes," Satine said slowly. She looked worried, although not quite for the reasons Obi-Wan figured he wanted her to be. "He said he likes history—what does that have to do with—"

"The ruins—he asked about the ruins—"

Satine's face cleared. "He wouldn't."

"He's young, has an obvious habit of getting involved in catacombs and underground areas, and he also happens to not be terribly pleased with his current state of affairs, so frankly," Obi-Wan said, walking towards one of the speeders, "I can believe he would." He chose one out, slipped into the driver's seat. He turned around to Satine. "I'm waiting on you, you know."

"I thought you would never ask," Satine replied. She slipped down to the passenger seat and, securing her seat belt, asked, " _Have_ you ever been to the ruins before?"

"No," Obi-Wan replied. "I've only heard stories."

"And what kind of stories are…"

"Best not to think about that," Obi-Wan said decidedly, and he started up the speeder.

They dove after Korkie—or dove after the general direction Korkie had went.

Obi-Wan couldn't see him, not in the midst of all the other lights and trails of smoke left behind by other speeders. Satine was looking around the speeder lanes too, both above and below and around, and with a frustrated groan, she leaned back against her seat. "We _need_ to find him," she said. "If he—"

"He has to be smart enough to know when to back down," Obi-Wan said. "Isn't he?"

"He's stubborn," Satine replied. "It's one of his best and worst traits. He never was one to back away from anything he didn't think he could accomplish or prove." She faltered for a moment. "Which is why," she murmured, "I imagine he was able to….heal me to the point he could."

Obi-Wan glanced over at Satine. The look in her eyes had gone vacant, faraway, and above that all, _ashamed_. Obi-Wan was startled to find that look out of all the others he had seen on Satine's face today.

"Do you know," Satine said after a while, "I don't think we would _be_ in this mess if I had just...not died to begin with."

Satine's voice was quiet enough and the traffic was loud enough that no one else probably would have heard Satine: but Obi-Wan was sitting next to Satine, and more than that, Satine was Satine, and Obi-Wan was Obi-Wan, so he heard the words.

"I don't think you had control over that," Obi-Wan said. He watched his hands as he brought the speeder lower, lower down the levels of Coruscant. "You died, and I couldn't—" Obi-Wan stopped short. That had started out as a statement. That had started out as matter-of-fact, a _fact_ —Satine had _died_ , and that was because Obi-Wan had been too late, and he had not been able to get them out of Mandalore on time. All a fact, and yet—

"You asked if I remembered," Satine said. "From before."

Obi-Wan had a hazy memory of being in a med bay on a ship, his side feeling particularly battered and Satine's face swimming above him. "Yes," was all he could manage.

"And you said—you said that you hoped you saved my life correctly this time."

Obi-Wan didn't respond. It was easy not to: the driving down this low required more concentration, especially with the darkness. The other speeders had long since faded in the background, and now only one or two other speeders flitted around the lower levels. Obi-Wan thought he saw some eyes watching from above, but he didn't bother looking up to meet them. He only peered down.

Darkness. Much darkness. With maybe only the briefest ghost of a white light that might have come from a flashlight or something else.

"Obi-Wan—"

"Don't blame yourself for dying," Obi-Wan said to the darkness, "when I was the one who failed to save you the first time."

They wound their way deeper into the darkness. Even that brief white light had gone out, and now it was only their speeder's headlights that lit the way for them. Obi-Wan searched for another speeder—and for a heart-stopping moment, he wondered if perhaps he had guessed _wrong_ , and how embarrassing and foolish would _that_ look, if he _was_ wrong—

"I have a better proposition," Satine said. "I won't blame myself for dying, and you won't blame yourself for something you couldn't control to begin with."

"Again, I don't think you had that much control over dying," Obi-Wan said.

"You know the point I'm trying to make—"

The rest of Satine's words were cut off by a sharp, howling wind that lifted the hairs on the back of Obi-Wan's neck. He gripped the controls of the speeder, looked down into the depths below again.

"I know the point you're trying to make," Obi-Wan said when the wind had finished. "But just so you realize…" He risked a quick glance at Satine. "What happened to you was— _is_ —" He stopped. "Korkie brought you back," Obi-Wan said simply. "No one can fault him for that. And anyone who does is a fool. Including yourself."

"Kind of you."

"The truth isn't always kind," Obi-Wan replied.

Even in the darkness, Obi-Wan could make out the shine of Satine's eyes. "No," she said. "It isn't." She peered down over the edge of the speeder.

After a moment, she asked, "The stories you heard about this place—did they say anything about large animals?"

"I can't recall," Obi-Wan replied, peering over the other edge of the speeder. Now he could make out twisted plants over the bottom of what looked like stony pathways, half-crumbling structures made out of rock. Obi-Wan would have found them interesting if it wasn't so _dark_ and...oddly dank. Obi-Wan thought he heard something hiss. A snake, maybe. He wouldn't put it past this place to have snakes.

Obi-Wan flew down lower. He saw something that looked suspiciously like claw marks on one of the stone walls.

Suddenly, Obi-Wan felt Satine's hand wrap around his arm. A high-pitched, strangled scream-sob that made Obi-Wan's blood run cold.

"What—" Obi-Wan turned to where Satine was pointing.

A ruined speeder sat at the edge of a crumbling platform.

The shattered headlights were still on.

But the seats were torn apart, and the driver was nowhere to be found.

\--

Obi-Wan stopped the speeder right next to Korkie's ruined one. He lifted himself out of the driver's seat, made his way over to the ruined parts—and he made out the torn seats, the smashed controls...claw marks. And blood. Just the faintest drops of blood—so not too much, but—

"There's something else down here," Satine whispered, setting her hand down on top of the ruined speeder. "Something that must have taken…." She pointed down the strip of ground leading away from the platform.

Obi-Wan activated his lightsaber, even though he didn't need the light to make out the unmistakable footprints—no, not footprints. _Pawprints_.

Obi-Wan walked over slowly, dropped down to a knee. He held the lightsaber higher, took in the tracks. "The animal came to Korkie first," he said. "Must have surprised him before taking him off." He stood up, lifted the lightsaber higher to catch more of the tracks. Only darkness and the shadows of the ruins beyond loomed and beckoned.

Another sharp wind blew past them.

"If there's something there…" Obi-Wan started, turning to look at Satine, but she was already walking ahead.

"I'm waiting on you, you know," Satine said over her shoulder.

Obi-Wan sighed. "Fair enough," he said, and he caught up to her, lightsaber still held above them to cast as much light as it could.

The deeper into the path they walked, the danker and moister the rest of the ruins seemed to become. Obi-Wan lifted a hand to touch one of the stone walls. It came away wet in his hand, and he rubbed the moisture between his fingers. Down this deep, he would have expected the ruins to be hot, too, but it was only cool. He looked to Satine, who had one hand still clutched around the head of her cane. She, too, looked around the ruins with a mild interest.

"How old do you think this place is?" Satine whispered.

"Much older than we could probably imagine," Obi-Wan replied. They passed a crumbling structure with letters in a language Obi-Wan didn't know. " _Much_ older, if they're not written in Basic."

"Do you think even before the Jedi…"

"Must be," Obi-Wan replied. He looked at another scratched symbol on one of the walls. "There is only so much information on the Coruscant ruins."

"And yet Korkie finds himself here," Satine murmured.

"And you are sure he's never gone on these kinds of adventures before?" Obi-Wan asked.

A pause.

"He always was one to explore," Satine said quietly. "He used to play in the gardens in his free time. Try to look for some new nook or cranny he hadn't yet discovered. And when he got bored of the gardens, he took to reading. Read up as much as he could on everything that wasn't Mandalore." She gave Obi-Wan a sidelong glance. "When Ahsoka first came to visit, he was beside himself: a real Jedi, a real lightsaber."

Obi-Wan tried to imagine Korkie as much younger, much smaller, and much more enthusiastic. "I thought weapons from off-worlders weren't allowed on Mandalore anymore?"

"They weren't," Satine replied. "So he was disappointed. But clearly, there were other lessons learned."

"Clearly," Obi-Wan said. He turned down to the rest of the path, and what little amusement had been tossed between the two of them dried up as they both looked at the dragged pawprints. Obi-Wan saw more specks in the dirt: more blood. And now, even above all that, Obi-Wan felt something else—a familiar tug that Obi-Wan hadn't noticed until now, when all was quiet.

"He's close," Obi-Wan said.

"How close?" Satine asked.

A low growl split the air.

Obi-Wan and Satine both stopped.

"Very close," Obi-Wan said.

He held up his lightsaber, illuminating the rest of the way.

They walked a few more steps forward, and then—

"Wait," Obi-Wan said, looking down.

Now there were footprints alongside the pawprints. Slightly dragged, to be sure, but still, someone had been walking. And that someone must have been Korkie, because there was no other way—

Another growl, this time _much_ closer.

"Do you think he's…" Satine whispered.

"I'm not sure," Obi-Wan replied. He took another step forward.

That was all it took—and there, in the distance, Obi-Wan saw a pair of gleaming yellow eyes. A glint of what Obi-Wan knew had to be sharp teeth.

" _Obi_ —"

"I know—"

The growl came again—this time, yes, coming directly from the creature in front of them, but above that, too—

Another growl, somewhere a little farther away, but one nonetheless.

Another pair of yellow eyes, these ones smaller as they joined the creature up ahead.

"Of course there's more of them," Satine murmured.

Now, both pairs of yellow eyes fixed on Obi-Wan and Satine.

Obi-Wan didn't want to think about what might have happened if Korkie—

Louder growls now. Obi-Wan heard paws shuffle against the ground, saw the eyes lower as—

" _Move_ ," Obi-Wan said, grabbing Satine's wrist.

They both ducked out of the way just as one of the beasts launched themselves forward. Under the glow of his lightsaber, Obi-Wan made out fur—lots of fur, covering a powerful set of legs, and he made out paws, yes, and black nails that must have been responsible for the claw and scratch marks on the speeder—

Obi-Wan heard another growl from his other side, and he turned in time to see the yellow eyes narrowing in time to pounce. The smaller one, Obi-Wan knew. For a second, he wondered if perhaps the smaller creature was a child, too, or maybe a mate—either way, he didn't necessarily want to find out what would happen if—

Obi-Wan reached out, his ears ringing as he urged the beast to calm.

Beside him, Obi-Wan heard Satine inhale.

He could hear the other, larger beast prowling around on his other side. Tentatively, he held out his other hand, willed the same. _Calm. Calm down._

 _We aren't going to hurt you_.

The growls started to fade just the slightest in volume. Obi-Wan closed his eyes. He heard and felt the shift of paws against the ground, heard them coming closer.

Closer, closer—Obi-Wan could smell their breaths against his face.

"They're…" Satine whispered.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes.

Wolves.

He was looking at wolves.

They peered back down at him: they had to be twice or three times his size up this close, and they both looked at Obi-Wan with a dazed kind of curiosity that he felt himself.

"Oh," Satine said in a small voice. She reached up slowly, and before Obi-Wan could warn her, her hand rested on the nose of the slightly smaller wolf. "Hello. Do you happen to know where our boy is?"

Obi-Wan looked to the other wolf. The slightly larger one—really, Obi-Wan saw now that there wasn't too much of a difference between the sizes, but this one lowered its head to Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan lowered his head back.

"He's young," he said to the wolf. "He should have come here a little while before us."

The wolf blinked its yellow eyes at Obi-Wan.

And then it turned around, its great tail just barely brushing past Obi-Wan and Satine.

Obi-Wan watched them walk away—and then the wolves both turned around expectantly.

"I think they want us to follow," Obi-Wan said.

"I thought so too," Satine whispered.

Obi-Wan felt Satine's fingers slip in between his.

He didn't pull away.

\--

They both walked after the wolves.

Deeper and deeper into the ruins they went, the only sounds being their breaths and the wolves' pants and the thuds of feet (or paws) against the ground. They walked and walked, and Obi-Wan found that he didn't need to use his lightsaber anymore. He could see the wolves ahead of him clearly, and Satine, too, didn't seem to need the light any more than he did.

Her hand was warm in his.

And then the wolves stopped.

And there, ahead—Obi-Wan saw a familiar figure crouched beside yet another wolf, this one much, much smaller than the others.

"Hello," Korkie was saying. "I don't think it'll hurt too much anymore."

A whimper.

"I know," Korkie said. "But you ought to be more careful next time. I don't suspect I'll be here as often as I'd like—I'm only a visitor, you know."

And then Korkie shifted over, and Obi-Wan watched with some awe as the wolf—a pup—staggered up to its feet. From here, Obi-Wan saw what must have been a much deeper gash at its shoulder slowly pinking into nothing more than a scratch.

 _He can heal_ , Obi-Wan thought.

The pup, seeing its parents, let out a happy little whine as it half-limped, half-walked over. And the wolves beside Obi-Wan and Satine in return let out their own happy sounds as they ducked their heads to meet the pup.

And then Korkie turned around.

For a moment, the boy looked surprised—a lift of both of his eyebrows, a slight part in his lips, and then he asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I believe we were going to ask you the same," Obi-Wan replied.

They all stood in silence.

"I was…" Korkie stood up slowly, brushing the dirt off his knees. "Curious about this place. I got into a bit of a scuffle, but—" He looked at the wolves. "I don't think they minded me so much." He looked around the ruins. "Do you know, I think they might have more pups—I've seen a few more of them, but they seemed content to leave me alone, too."

"We were _worried_ ," Satine said, her voice cracking. "We saw the speeder."

Korkie looked guilty. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't think you two would actually…" His voice drifted as he looked at Obi-Wan.

"I heard you leave," Obi-Wan said. "And—"

"He thought you'd be down here," Satine said.

Korkie blinked. "How did—"

"You mentioned it earlier," Obi-Wan replied. "And—history."

"I could have been only acting."

"I don't think you were."

Korkie started to cross his arms, lowered them. "You don't know me though," he said quietly. "There couldn't have been—" He dropped his head, and suddenly, he looked much, much younger than he had earlier this day. He looked a little more like his age: a seventeen year old boy who had perhaps seen and felt a little too much in his years.

Obi-Wan stepped forward. He felt Satine let him go—and this time, when he walked forward, Korkie lifted his head.

"You're right," Obi-Wan said quietly. "I don't know you—not as nearly as well as I would like. I _didn't_ know about you for a long, long time."

Korkie was quiet. But he looked up at Obi-Wan, those eyes nearly replicas of Obi-Wan's own.

"But I would like to try," Obi-Wan finished. He lifted his hand, hesitated.

And then he set it on Korkie's shoulder. He felt Korkie stiffen, and then slowly sink under Obi-Wan's hand.

"There is no burden in knowing you," Obi-Wan said quietly. "And whatever burdens you _do_ feel…" Obi-Wan's throat burned. "You don't have to carry them alone." He paused. "Take that as a first piece of advice from someone who knows."

Korkie lifted his head a little higher. He blinked a few times, and then, his voice cracking, he replied, "Alright."

Obi-Wan gave Korkie a small smile.

And Korkie smiled back—a small, small smile, but still a smile.

"Now we should—" Obi-Wan started to say, but before he could finish, he felt arms wrap around his middle and a quick, hurried hug. From Korkie, whose cheeks were now pinking.

Obi-Wan stopped. He looked down at Korkie and, just as Korkie was about to pull away, Obi-Wan rested a hand on the boy's back. He looked back to Satine, saw her smile.

He tilted his head slightly to the side— _what do I_ —

Satine walked forward. One hand resting on Obi-Wan's shoulder, and the other joining on Korkie's back, she just said, "I think we can wait just for a little while longer, don't you think so?"

Obi-Wan agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am incredibly sorry for the whole whopper of a chapter in this one, but if you're following me on tumblr at all, I mentioned that I suspect this fic will hit 100K-ish words, so ah...here we are. My hands may have been shaking a little bit while I wrote these last few scenes--I rather enjoyed them, though, and I hope they were somewhat enjoyable to read, too. 
> 
> As always, comments/kudos/subscriptions are greatly appreciated!


	25. Chapter 25

"You seem nervous."

Ahsoka looked up at Rex. "I could say the same of you," she said.

"That obvious?" Rex asked.

"Yes," Ahsoka replied. At Rex's grimace, she smiled. "Relax."

"I _am_ —"

"Mm." Ahsoka stepped back, looked at Rex up and down. He wasn't dressed in his usual garb—the armor was replaced by formal wear, something which Ahsoka realized she hadn't actually seen Rex wear before. Actually, she didn't think she had ever seen him wear actual civilian clothing, period, but this was something that they all had to come to a compromise with.

But Rex still kept his helmet—battered, still criss-crossed with tallies of lives lost, tucked under his arm as he always had. And Ahsoka knew that that would be a good reminder for the Senate about who they would actually be listening to.

They both turned towards the rest of the Senate chambers. Some of the senators had started filing into their pods. Ahsoka caught a few friendly faces: Senator Organa, Senator Chuchi. And Padmé, sitting in a pod just a little ways from them. Ahsoka smiled, waving a hand.

Padmé, catching the gesture, waved back. And next to her, Ahsoka saw Anakin. He had Luke on his lap, and he, too, lifted Luke's little hand so that it imitated a wave. Leia, it seemed, was a little too busy looking around the Senate chambers to be bothered to wave back. Ahsoka smiled to herself, letting her hand drop. She could forgive that.

"So the general's bringing in his kids now?" Rex asked, following Ahsoka's gaze.

"I think he's allowed at this point," Ahsoka said, dropping her hand. "Now that he's left the Order and everything." She looked over at Rex. "I don't think that means you'll be seeing any less of him, though."

Rex let out a huff of a laugh. "Believe me," he said. "I think it'll be a good long while before anything like that happens."

Ahsoka grinned, and she turned back around to wave at the Skywalker-Amidala family again. And beyond them, Ahsoka spotted Duchess Kryze and Korkie—who, Ahsoka realized, had grown to be much taller than she had anticipated. Taller and, even from this distance, resembling the man who stood behind him. Obi-Wan was smiling at something Korkie had just said, and when the three looked up to see Ahsoka, they waved. Ahsoka waved back.

"I think it'll be a good long while before you stop seeing any of us, Rex," she said. She dropped her hand, turned to Rex. She gave him a meaningful smile, and he smiled back.

"So," he said, looking back out the Senate chamber. "Back to the Order?"

"Well, if they want me," Ahsoka replied.

"They'll want you," Rex said. He gave Ahsoka a sidelong glance, which she caught. "And if they don't…" He lifted his shoulders. "You know the office door's always going to be open."

Ahsoka smiled a little. "I know," she said, and she did. She looked out to the Senate chamber, too. "But if I _do_ get accepted back, I'm still going to find a way to help. Just so you know. Jedi presence, keeper of the peace, after all." She looked at Rex again. "Just in case you miss having a work partner."

"I'll make sure to let you know."

"But in the meantime…" Ahsoka glanced to the Senate chamber. More senators were filtering in. She saw Chancellor Mothma taking up her own pod. In just a few minutes, the session would be starting.

She looked back to Rex. His expression had clouded over again.

"Rex."

Rex looked at her.

Ahsoka stepped back, lifted her hand in a salute. "It was an honor." She paused. "It _is_ an honor."

Rex's expression softened.

And then he lifted his hand in a salute, too.

They smiled at each other, and Ahsoka had the feeling that no matter whether she returned to the Order or not, she would still be seeing Rex for a long, long while.

She had the feeling he knew, too.

"Looking good, Commander."

Both Ahsoka and Rex turned to find Jesse and Cody walking onto the repulsor pod. Like Rex, Jesse and Cody were dressed differently—although they, too, carried their helmets under their arms. Jesse looked the most uncomfortable, while Cody held himself perhaps a little straighter than he had in uniform, if that was even possible.

"Not looking too bad yourselves," Rex said. "Styled the hair, Jesse?"

"Gotta keep myself groomed, don't I?"

A corner of Rex's mouth twitched. He looked at Ahsoka.

She flashed a thumbs-up.

Another twitch of the lips, and then Chancellor Mothma was calling the Senate to attention.

And the next few minutes were a blur: Ahsoka stepped away from the pod and gave Rex and the others a final nod of encouragement. And then their pod was heading to the center of the Senate chambers, and Ahsoka watched and waited in the wings as the entire Senate seemed to shift forward to catch a glimpse of the clone troopers who were about to deliver their own statement.

Ahsoka squeezed her own hands together behind her back as Rex lifted his head up at the Senate chamber.

"Senators," he began. "My brothers and I are here on behalf of the Grand Army of the Republic. And we thank you for your time in...seeing us today." He glanced around the Senate chamber, and Ahsoka leaned a little closer to where the pod had just been a moment ago. Rex couldn't turn around to look at her, she knew, but she hoped that he knew that she hadn't bothered going anywhere.

"For three years, we've proudly served the Republic. Stood and fought and bled for the Republic, alongside countless Jedi and civilians—all of whom we remember and honor in memory." Rex looked around the Senate chambers. "All of whom are _rightfully_ remembered and honored."

Some shifting. Already some murmuring and wondering about what the rest of this was all about—

"But we're not here to talk about the Jedi or the civilians," Rex said. "We're here to speak for _ourselves_. The ones who've stood guard in this very building—the ones who've guided cruisers back to the docks—the ones who've fought on the battlefield no one else wanted to fight on and the ones who've cleaned the hallways no one else wanted to clean and the ones who have—" A quick breath. "Fought a war no one else wanted to fight."

Ahsoka knew that line was going to stir some reactions. Sure enough, there were already some senators standing up, some grumbling and protesting—but Chancellor Mothma lifted a hand for silence.

"We're not denying that the war impacted everyone— _everyone_ in this room has sacrificed or lost something," Rex said. "Lost time. Lost _people_. Lost things that won't and can't ever be replaced."

"That said," Rex said, setting his hands at the edge of the pod, "even despite that loss, we're still. Here." He glanced back to Cody and Jesse. Ahsoka couldn't see their expressions up close, but she flicked her eyes to the floating holograms. She could see the small smiles exchanged between them, the slight nods.

"The Republic's lasted," Rex said, "and while everyone gets to go home— _good job, well done_ — _we're_ still here." He looked around the Senate chambers, and even in the hologram, Ahsoka could see the set determination in Rex's eyes.

"We're aware of the rumors that have circulated about us clones," Rex said. "An inhibitor chip. One that was intended to execute the Jedi." More murmurs, more shuffling. "We're not here to convince you whether those rumors are true or false—because it seems most of you have made up your mind about us either way."

Ahsoka stifled a small smile. That was a line added by Jesse at the last second, she was fairly sure. They had debated keeping that in or not. ("It'll wake them up," Jesse said.)

"But we _are_ here to convince you to consider this plan," Rex said. A swipe of the pad in front of him, and Ahsoka watched as an attachment popped up on everyone's holograms. "A detailed procedure that, over the span of two weeks, will remove the chip from every clone trooper in the Grand Army of the Republic. Provided by the Kaminoan scientists themselves."

"Now," Rex said, "it might be easier for most to sweep this under a bureaucratic rug. More time, more funds funnelled into this one project—we understand that exhaustion." Slight sarcasm there. Ahsoka turned sideways to find Anakin beaming at Rex. Of course.

" _But_ ," Rex added, "we're asking the Senate to find it in themselves to recognize how they can afford this exhaustion in the first place."

"So we're asking this of the Senate," Rex said. "And we're asking them to relieve their soldiers of _this_ exhaustion."

"Cleaning, teaching, guarding, fighting, dying—those are all things that we've done for the Republic." Rex dropped his hands from the railing of the pod. Stood up straight. "And now we want to _live_ in the Republic that we fought for."

"After three years of standing and fighting and bleeding," Rex continued, staring up at the Senate, "we're ready to live for many, many years more."

Ahsoka leaned against the wall as Rex's last words rang out over the Senate chambers.

She waited a full thirty seconds before being the first one to clap.

She didn't care if she surprised some of the nearby senators—she clapped as loudly as she could, and in another moment, she saw Padmé and Anakin taking suit, and then Duchess Kryze and Obi-Wan and Korkie, and then Senator Organa, and then Senator Chuchi, and in just another few moments, senators on top of senators joined in. Some hesitant, some reluctant, some still undoubtedly sour, _but_ —

Rex blinked. He turned around on the spot, and Ahsoka watched as the three troopers in the repulsor pod just looked and looked and looked at the people around them.

Finally, Rex and Ahsoka locked eyes.

Ahsoka lifted her hands in pointed applause.

And even from her spot, Ahsoka saw the way Rex's eyes wrinkled in a quiet smile.

"Well," Chancellor Mothma said, raising her hands, "that's certainly a response." She looked down at the chamber, a slight smile tugging at her lips. "Shall we call in a vote?"

\--

"You were _fantastic_ ," Ahsoka said.

"Wasn't too sure about that," Rex replied, stepping out of the repulsorpod. "Some of them looked ready to murder me—"

"Good luck," Jesse crowed. He hit Rex on the back. "They won't stand a _chance_ —"

"Vote still has to go in," Cody reminded them. "Don't start celebrating just yet—"

"I'm celebrating," Jesse said determinedly. He looked at Ahsoka. "Commander, tell them to celebrate."

"Celebrate," Ahsoka said promptly.

"Don't encourage him—"

" _Rex!_ "

They all looked up just as Anakin came barreling down the hallway. Ahsoka just barely caught the brief look of panic on Rex's face before Anakin threw an arm around the commander's shoulder. "That was—"

" _Wonderful_ ," Padmé said warmly. Luke and Leia were sitting in a stroller, and both of them expressed their own excitement at the noise by making identical cries. "See? They agree too."

Rex gave an embarrassed smile. He looked down at the carpet, and Anakin squeezed his shoulder again. Ahsoka had to stifle her own laugh—Rex looked a mix of both mortified and pleased that she wished she could take a picture.

"I see Anakin's beat us to the congratulations."

Ahsoka turned around to find Obi-Wan walking out to the hallway, Satine and Korkie close behind. "You're right on time," she said cheerfully.

"Yes, well," Obi-Wan said, smiling warmly. "All the same—congratulations. Quite the speech."

"Jesse and Cody helped," Rex said hurriedly.

"Yes—some lines were very distinctly your own, Cody," Obi-Wan commented, giving the commander a light smile that Cody received with a matching smile of his own. Ahsoka would have started laughing a little at that, too. Actually, she felt like laughing in general. Just the giddy energy in the hallway was overwhelming.

"Well done, all of you," Satine said warmly. "I have no doubt that the vote will turn in your favor."

"See? No doubt!" Jesse said cheerfully, slapping both Cody and Rex on the backs.

Both Cody and Rex pushed Jesse back, but Jesse laughed, just barely ducking out of the way.

Ahsoka grinned. She looked around the rest of the hallway. She saw some other senators walking out, casting them some curious glances, but she saw some other smiles too, and her chest warmed. If there was anyone who was still on the hinge of deciding, then maybe this spectacle would convince them.

And how could they not be convinced, Ahsoka thought, looking at Rex, who was now openly laughing at something Anakin said. With this kind of energy? No one would deny them anything less than what they asked for.

In the midst of the laughing and joking, Ahsoka managed to turn to Korkie.

"Long time, no see," she said. "Enjoying your time so far?"

"Very," Korkie replied, his eyes shining. "I see you've been busy."

"I was about to say the same," Ahsoka replied. "Planning to stay for any longer?"

Korkie shrugged. "Just for a few more days," he said. "And then I'll be off."

"Off?" Ahsoka asked.

"Back to Mandalore," Korkie said. "With Satine." He paused. "My mother." He looked bewildered for a moment, then oddly not. "Much to do, after all."

Ahsoka glanced over to where Satine and Obi-Wan were talking to Cody. And while Obi-Wan was very much engaged in the conversation, she caught Obi-Wan glancing over to Satine every few seconds, and she saw a softness in his gaze that she didn't think she had seen before.

Ahsoka turned back around to Korkie. He was looking thoughtfully at Obi-Wan and Satine too, and when he caught Ahsoka looking, he gave her an embarrassed smile. Ahsoka smiled back. She decided she didn't have to ask anymore of what exactly was going on between the three—she could figure it out for herself.

"Yes," she said. "Much to do."

\--

When everyone was called back into the Senate chambers, Ahsoka found herself standing next to Rex again.

Everyone held their breaths as Chancellor Mothma reached the center of the Senate chambers.

"It would seem," she said, looking down at the screen, "that the Senate…"

Ahsoka heard Rex's sharp inhale of breath.

And without thinking, she reached for his hand. She was partly surprised and yet partly not when their fingers twined together.

"Has approved of the proposed plan," Chancellor Mothma finished. She smiled up at the Senate. "As well as the additional agreements regarding clone trooper affairs. From now on, clone troopers will be given the benefits of…"

Ahsoka didn't get to hear the rest.

She turned around to Rex, who just blinked at the Senate chambers.

"Did you hear that? She _said_ —" Jesse.

"I thought you said there was no doubt?" Cody.

"Did she just—" Rex.

Ahsoka squeezed his hand. "I think she did."

Rex looked at Ahsoka, his eyes wide. And then he looked over to Jesse and Cody. " _Did she just_ —"

Ahsoka _really_ wished she had a holocamera later, but right now, the image in her mind: Rex and Cody and Jesse resting their foreheads against each other as they let out shaky breaths and shaky laughs—would have to do.

\--

There were other events where holocameras couldn't exactly capture the moment, too.

Like Ahsoka standing before the Council chambers now.

Only an hour after the initial exhilaration in the Senate Building, Ahsoka found herself standing in the Jedi Temple, her hands clasped behind her back.

The light from the windows filtered into this room: this warm room that Ahsoka had received countless scoldings and praises and, in the end, goodbyes.

And now, something else.

"I know that I left," Ahsoka said quietly. "That was my decision, and my decision alone. And I understand that not too many people are accepted back into the Order." She lowered herself to her knees, bowed her head.

"And wish to be accepted, do you?" Yoda's voice was quiet. Not condemning—just curious.

"Yes," Ahsoka replied. She kept her eyes trained on her knees, then to the tiles of the floor. She swallowed. "After leaving the Order, I ventured on my own. And I kept…" Her voice drifted.

"I am a Jedi. But." She dared lift her head just the slightest. "The war has skewed the galaxy's perception of the Jedi. From peacekeepers to soldiers. And I wish to change that. To be a part of that change," she corrected herself.

She caught Yoda looking at her. She couldn't read the Grandmaster's expression—not at first. His wise brown eyes just peered down at her, and for a moment, Ahsoka wondered if perhaps she had said something wrong. She half-expected herself to feel like a young Padawan again, someone who had said the wrong thing too quickly, but then Yoda smiled.

"We'll admit that we are surprised," Windu said.

"I understand," Ahsoka said, bowing her head again. "And if the Council deems it proper for me to remain outside the Order—"

"Deem it proper, we do not," Yoda said gently.

Ahsoka lifted her head, her heart pounding fast in her chest. She found those wise brown eyes again. She distinctly remembered seeing Yoda as a youngling—and even back then, his eyes had been the same. Or maybe not, Ahsoka thought. Maybe they were a little older, too, as impossible as that seemed. "Master?"

"Many children, have we lost," Yoda said. He slowly lowered himself from his seat, and Ahsoka dropped her head back down as he walked towards her. "Many children of the Force, lost through war and other means, have we. Through our own mistakes, have we lost them."

Ahsoka swallowed. Her eyes and throat burned.

"A part of the change, you wish to be?" Yoda asked.

Ahsoka nodded. Then, remembering to use her voice, she managed, "Yes."

A silence passed.

Ahsoka closed her eyes.

And then Ahsoka heard and felt the shift in the air: just the slightest shift, but she didn't dare open her eyes.

"Still a Jedi, you are," Yoda said. Ahsoka knew he was still standing in front of her, and yet, she felt his presence elsewhere. Around her. "Still speaking through the Force, you are."

Another silence. Ahsoka felt another shift in the air, and then—darkness. Whatever lights were still dancing under Ahsoka's eyelids disappeared, and she knew that the windows had closed.

"Open your eyes."

Ahsoka opened her eyes.

Yoda was standing atop his seat now, lightsaber drawn.

Ahsoka barely contained her own little gasp as she looked around. The Council members—still the Council members, Ahsoka could see from the distant glow of their lightsabers. She saw Master Plo—and though she couldn't ever see his expression behind his mask, she knew that he had to be happy, just because of the way he stood. When Ahsoka looked to the other side, she just barely made out Obi-Wan's face behind his own saber. Her chest warmed instantly at his little nod to her. She hadn't expected him to be here, she realized, and she didn't know why she hadn't noticed him earlier. Whatever the Council thought of him, Ahsoka realized that, too, she might have to find out later. But for now, she was just glad he was there.

She thought she saw some more Council members smile—and that alone made her feel a new kind of warmth. She turned back to Yoda as he continued.

"We are all the Jedi," he started. "The Force speaks through us…"

Ahsoka bowed her head as the words were spoken above her. And she thought again of a different time—the time first when Master Yoda had told her that she was to be assigned to _Anakin Skywalker_ , the _Chosen One_ —herself, a wide-eyed fourteen year old youngling who technically should have gone off to the AgriCorps a year ago. _No, Master Yoda, that can't be right_ — _how can I be Master Skywalker's Padawan_ —

—and then standing in this room to deliver countless reports, usually with Anakin right by her side. Anakin, sometimes giving her a sidelong smirk or a quick shake of his head to signal _yes, good_ or _no, don't tell them that bit_ —

—and then standing in this room to receive countless assignments, again usually with Anakin right by her side. Swallowing back groans when the assignment wasn't particularly interesting, smothering her own excitement whenever she was told that they would be tackling a certain operation—

—and then standing in this room after her trial, after the bombing, after Barriss. Standing in front of the Council members and Anakin, folding her hand over his as she told him _I'm not coming back_. And then walking away for what she thought would be the last time ever—

—and now.

Now.

"...by the right of the Council," Yoda was saying, "by the will of the Force, I dub thee—"

Ahsoka felt the heat of Yoda's lightsaber hover to where her silka beads used to be. No silka beads now, but all the same—Ahsoka realized she didn't need them. She didn't need them to know where she belonged.

"Jedi, Knight of the Republic."

She just _belonged_.

\--

When Ahsoka walked out, she found Anakin already waiting for her.

"Anakin."

Anakin's eyes wrinkled a little bit, and then he stepped back. "Knight Tano." He bowed his head, and Ahsoka stared.

"How'd you—"

Anakin lifted his head with a little grin. "Obi-Wan might have dropped a hint or two."

Ahsoka blinked. And then she turned to the doors.

"I didn't know if Master Kenobi would be there," Ahsoka admitted. And she hadn't thought Anakin would be here, either. Although, now that Anakin stood next to her, she realized that was a silly assumption. "I thought that…"

Anakin looked to the doors behind Ahsoka. For a moment, they both stood in contemplation at the doors.

"We'll see," Anakin said after a while. "But for some reason, I think it'll take a little more before Obi-Wan gets into _serious_ trouble."

Ahsoka nodded. And then she turned to Anakin.

He turned to Ahsoka.

"So, Knight Tano," Anakin said, bowing his head. "Anything I can assist you with?"

Ahsoka grinned. "I _do_ need help moving back in…"

"Consider it done."

\--

Ahsoka's room was apparently already waiting for her when Anakin and she returned with her things. She didn't have too many things to begin with—a few spare parts that she had tinkered with on and off in her free time, a blanket that Trace had given her at one point. A poster that Rex and she had come across in a night walking around the shopping district. Some clothes.

And then, of course, her lightsabers.

Ahsoka turned her lightsabers over in her hands and smiled. A _Knight_. She was a Knight now.

A part of her thought that it was all too quick—three years was hardly as long as some of the ten plus years that she knew other Knights had undergone, but then again, there hadn't been a war. Ahsoka set her lightsabers down on her dresser and looked at them. She had only ever used her lightsabers to deflect blaster fire and cut through enemy territory. Now, she wondered how she was going to use them.

A _Knight_.

Ahsoka looked at Anakin. He was setting down a box of spare parts. He looked up at her and smiled. "Everything okay?"

Ahsoka's throat closed.

"Yeah," she said. "Everything's okay."

\--

And there were yet even more moments that Ahsoka wished she could take a picture of, like a few days later, when she was standing on the landing platform as Satine and Korkie waited for the ship to arrive.

Ahsoka hadn't been present for the statement—she hadn't had to, because she found the recording later: complete with Satine standing tall and proud, her voice echoing around and around the Senate chamber. Korkie standing behind, his face reflecting just the kind of person he would grow into later. Ahsoka had the feeling that she would probably be seeing more of them soon.

Now, Ahsoka stood next to Korkie.

"So...you can heal people?" Ahsoka asked at last.

Korkie lifted a shoulder, looking semi-embarrassed. "Nothing too grand," he said.

Ahsoka let out a short laugh. "Understatement."

"Well...I did have a healing crystal," he said. He looked down at his hands. "It's only...a small gift. Amongst other things."

Ahsoka thought about the boy she had met when she first came to Mandalore. She wondered why she hadn't been able to put two and two together the first time. But then again, they were young—both of them absolute children. Ahsoka supposed that they still were technically children, but she felt much, much older than she actually was. She suspected that the same was for Korkie.

"Some people are like that," Ahsoka said, looking up to the sky. "Just certain gifts manifesting in specific ways. It's funny." She cast Korkie a sidelong glance. "Master Sky—Anakin had quick reflexes. I could sense...people's intentions. For the most part."

Korkie lifted an eyebrow. "Meaning?"

Ahsoka grinned. "Some people tried to kidnap me as a child. I was able to figure things out back then."

" _Oh_."

"But healing," Ahsoka said. "That's a handy gift to have."

Korkie shrugged again. And then, after a few moments of silence, he asked, "Do you know what...Master Kenobi's... _gift_ was?"

Ahsoka looked to the other side of the platform. Obi-Wan was speaking quietly with Satine. She caught Anakin and Padmé standing in the background, Luke and Leia tucked away in the stroller. Padmé was tugging at Anakin's sleeve, while Anakin looked both smug and...just content.

And Rex was walking up to the platform now too, his hand caught in a quick wave. Ahsoka grinned, waved back. Right on time.

"Well," Ahsoka said, dropping her hand, "I don't know, actually." She looked at Korkie. "He _does_ have a way with animals, though. But really, there could be a lot of things."

Korkie had a funny look on his face. "Animals," he said. And then he let out a small laugh, dropping his head to the ground.

Ahsoka gave him a quizzical smile. "Something funny about that?"

"No, just—" Korkie smiled. "Should have known."

He didn't bother offering an explanation. Ahsoka had the feeling she could wheedle the story out of Obi-Wan another time.

"You know," she said after a little while, "the Jedi Order doesn't really...let too many grown people train, but if you ever wanted to learn more…"

"I know," Korkie said. He looked at Ahsoka. "Perhaps I'll take up that offer sometime. But right now…" He nodded to the ship that was now coming close to the platform. "A different life for me awaits."

"Of course." Ahsoka smiled. She stepped back, folded her arms over her chest. "I 'spect I'll be seeing more of you?"

Korkie glanced over at Obi-Wan and Satine. And Ahsoka did, too.

"I suspect so," Korkie said. He still had a funny look on his face. "I might be coming to Coruscant more often."

And then the ship was landing, and they made their way over to where the ramp was lowering itself.

"I thought you were running late," Ahsoka said when Rex reached her side.

"Got distracted," Rex replied. "Mostly congratulations dropping in." He looked at Ahsoka. "I can't tell if we're suddenly popular or if people just want to claim they were on our side all along."

"That's politics for you," Ahsoka said.

Rex let out a short breath. "Politics," he agreed.

"But you're rather good at it," Ahsoka said offhandedly.

"One speech was enough for me, thank you very much."

Ahsoka grinned. She looked at the landing ramp. "So how long are you going to be traveling again?"

"A week," Rex replied. He looked at the ship. "Thought I've seen enough planets to last a lifetime."

"Seems like you're just getting started," Ahsoka said as the captain stepped down the ramp. He was already taking some of the luggage. He nodded over at Ahsoka and Rex, and Ahsoka nodded back. "Mandalore, then…"

"Rodia. Naboo's somewhere on the list. Alderaan, Onderon. All uppity planets."

"Looks like you'll be dealing with more politics," Ahsoka said, stifling a smile. "Whatever will you do."

"Still trying to figure that out for myself," Rex replied with a shake of his head.

Ahsoka looked at him. "You'll be fine."

"And Mandalore's excited to have you," Korkie added. He smiled, and Rex gave him a quizzical smile back.

"You'll be fine," Ahsoka repeated as Korkie helped the captain with another bag. "And if you _do_ need someone to do some extra peacekeeping—or aggressive negotiations—I'm sure I could get the Council to send me over."

"I'll be counting on it," Rex said.

Ahsoka grinned. She took a small step away, and she considered saluting—she really did—but she decided that they were a little past that point.

And she liked to think that Rex must have decided they were a little past that point too, because when she hugged him, he stiffened only for a second—and then she heard him laugh and felt him hug back. He was a good hugger, Ahsoka realized.

She closed her eyes briefly, reopened them to find the rest of the world a little blurry.

Everything was changing—and that felt a little strange, but at the same time, it felt right. After everything, she figured change was good. It could be good.

Ahsoka let go of Rex at last, and she noticed that his eyes were a little shiny too.

Ahsoka was about to step back—tell Rex that he best be off now, when she spotted some more movement out of the corner of her eye. Korkie had returned from the ship, and now he was leaning against the ramp, ever more patient than Ahsoka had first imagined.

She looked to where Korkie was staring, and she tugged at Rex's arm.

"What—" Rex turned, and then he sighed. "Ah."

Obi-Wan and Satine were still talking to each other—a little farther apart from one another now, Obi-Wan with his hands folded behind himself, Satine with her hands hanging lightly at her sides. Ever the frustrating pair, Ahsoka thought.

"So," Ahsoka said, "maybe we'll hold onto you for another little while. Five minutes, ten minutes tops."

"Five," Rex said.

Ahsoka looked at Korkie. "Any bets of your own?"

"Not quite," Korkie replied. After a beat, he said, "Although they do take their time, don't they?"

Both Ahsoka and Rex grunted their agreements.

A pause. A long pause.

Ahsoka was about to change her bet—fifteen minutes, she figured, but then the captain came barreling down the ramp, shouting something about everything being ready.

Ahsoka, Rex, and Korkie winced as both Obi-Wan and Satine looked to the ship.

And then they started walking towards them, and Ahsoka felt a little sorry for them both.

"Well," Satine said, "I suppose this is goodbye for now."

"Yes," Obi-Wan said. He stood back, gestured to the ramp. "For now."

They smiled at each other, and Ahsoka had half the mind to drag both Rex and herself away, but then Satine turned to her.

"I congratulate you again, Ahsoka," Satine said. "Do visit, yes?"

"'Course," Ahsoka replied, rubbing a hand behind her neck. "Wouldn't miss it."

"We'll hold you to that," Korkie said.

"I don't doubt it," Ahsoka replied honestly. She looked at Rex. "But I think Mandalore won't miss me with him around."

A laugh from all of them.

And then, with a slight glance at Obi-Wan which Ahsoka didn't miss, Satine added, "Another time, then."

She didn't miss the slight dip in Obi-Wan's voice as he agreed, "Another time."

Another exchanged smile, this one a little softer and sadder.

 _They really are ridiculous_ , Ahsoka thought. She shot a backwards glance at Anakin, who was watching on with a funny look himself.

Ahsoka turned back around to see Obi-Wan squeezing Korkie by the shoulder—a gesture which Korkie seemed to appreciate, because his face suddenly looked so much younger than it had just a moment ago. Maybe that was enough, Ahsoka thought. Maybe.

And then Korkie went up the ramp first.

Ahsoka looked to Rex. _Stay out of trouble_ , she mouthed.

Rex grinned. And then he was going up the ramp, too.

And then Satine was dipping her head to Ahsoka, then to Obi-Wan.

"Duchess," Ahsoka said, and she stepped away. She looked to Obi-Wan, half-expected him to stay behind, but he, too, gave Satine a little nod. And then he was walking with Ahsoka—

Ahsoka heard Satine's steps go up the ramp.

And then she heard a small sigh beside herself. She automatically turned to say something—the first sympathetic thing to come to her head was, stupidly, _well, you did say another time_ —but all she got was empty air.

She heard rapid footsteps behind herself—not walking towards her, but away.

And then she saw Anakin and Padmé's stunned faces—well, Padmé looking stunned, Anakin looking elated.

And because of that, Ahsoka supposed she really shouldn't have been surprised to find Obi-Wan cupping Satine's face with one hand, holding her hand in the other. Ahsoka was Korkie and Rex standing at the top of their ramp, both of their faces a little bemused—and maybe a little embarrassed, and Ahsoka felt somewhat the same, but at the same time—

She couldn't actually see Obi-Wan and Satine's faces, not as he leaned forward and kissed her lightly—but she had the funny feeling that they were both smiling.

A few quiet words, and then Ahsoka heard something just the slightest snippet of conversation:

"Wait for me?"

A laugh.

"I think I can manage. I have a world to run, after all."

Ahsoka grinned. She turned around, and she decided maybe this was perhaps the right time to walk away.

\--

"Time's up, ma'am," the guard behind Ahsoka said.

"Yes," Ahsoka said. She stood up and looked down at Barriss. "Same time next week, I suppose."

A corner of Barriss' lips twitched. "I suppose so." She paused. "I don't suppose they'll particularly want to hear congratulations from me, but—"

"I know," Ahsoka said. She started for the door and turned around. Barriss was looking much better since the healing crystal had done its works—and Ahsoka knew that somewhere, the crystal was locked deep within the Archives. She figured it wouldn't be used for another long, long while.

"Next time then," Ahsoka said.

"Next time."

And then Ahsoka was walking out of the Detention Center in time to catch the rising sun. She paused, watching the sun going in between the skyscrapers. She realized she hadn't actually been around to see the sun rise at this angle—the last times she had been here, it has already been either too bright or too dark for her to catch the morning rays.

But now Ahsoka stood there, watching the golden light shine against the buildings.

It was a pretty look, she thought—but she couldn't enjoy it for long. After all, she was already running a little late.

\--

But she supposed that was fine, because apparently Anakin was running a little late, too.

"I lost them," he whispered, mortified. He was pacing around the room, his hands already moving up to his hair. "Must have slipped out while I was…"

"It's okay," Ahsoka said quickly. "We can find them. Where was the last place you…"

But before she could finish, the doors opened.

"Anakin, you—" Obi-Wan stopped. He stared at the mess around the room: overthrown pillows and blankets. And then he looked up at Anakin and Ahsoka. "Were you looking for something?"

"He lost his vows," Ahsoka said, picking up one of the pillows. She tossed it to the couch. "We'll find them—"

"I can't believe it," Anakin was saying, "out of _all days_ —I _swear I just_ —"

Ahsoka heard Obi-Wan's sigh, and then Anakin came to an abrupt stop. She looked up to see Obi-Wan holding out the small stack of flimsi.

"Do be careful with these, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, passing the scrawled vows to Anakin. "Perhaps not your lightsaber, but I would imagine these are still rather important."

Ahsoka grinned, hopping up to her feet as Anakin took the flimsi.

"Now come along," Obi-Wan said, nodding to the door. "It's rude to keep your guests waiting."

Anakin let out a small sound that might have been a laugh or a sob. Ahsoka couldn't tell. There was a lot of that lately. She walked around to Anakin's side and rested a hand on his back.

"Come on, Skyguy," she said. "Lead the way."

\--

So even though Anakin and Padmé were technically already married, they had decided to get married again. With more people this time. And not in secret. And maybe it wasn't quite traditional that Luke and Leia were present for their own parents' wedding, but it certainly added to the charm. Ahsoka kept the babies sitting on her lap, and once, when Anakin and Padmé glanced their way, Ahsoka lifted up the childrens' little hands as an encouraging wave. That got some laughs from everyone.

The vows were exchanged: Padmé's words spoken not in her politician voice, but in her Padmé Amidala voice. Anakin's words spoken not in his general or Chosen One's voice, but in his Anakin Skywalker voice.

There were references to things Ahsoka both knew and didn't (a junk shop on Tatooine, a stolen kiss before going into an arena, and quiet moments both after and in between). But she didn't really mind if she didn't know all of what the two were talking about—in the end, the only words Ahsoka figured that mattered were the three that began and ended with watery smiles and loud cheers. And even though the officiant started to say " _wait, not yet_ —", it didn't matter, because Anakin was already leaning forward for the kiss, and the 501st were already cheering them on.

Luke and Leia, excited by the sudden noise, started clapping and shrieking along with everyone, and if Ahsoka hadn't been keeping the two balanced on her lap, she would have started clapping too. But she settled for smiling and whooping along with everyone else.

And she saw Padmé's smile: wider than she had ever seen it, and then she was saying words that Ahsoka knew were probably only for Anakin to hear. And whatever she said just made Anakin laugh and lean forward to steal another kiss—which she happily gave.

And out of the corner of her eye, beyond all the shouting and clapping, Ahsoka saw other faces: some of the Council members had even come, and they were smiling and laughing amongst themselves. Jesse and Kix were shouting encouragements, and Rex looked both embarrassed for them but Ahsoka noticed that didn't keep him from shouting on his own.

And beyond them, Ahsoka saw Korkie clapping and cheering too, his face bright with a laughter that actually fit his age. And next to him was Bo-Katan, who wore a good-natured grin. And next to her was Satine, whose eyes were glittering like the lake around them.

And next to _her_ was Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka caught the two of them smiling briefly at each other before turning back around to Anakin and Padmé. She didn't know how much longer Satine and Obi-Wan were going to wait for each other, but looking at them, Ahsoka had the feeling that they were on their way.

And so Ahsoka supposed that just left herself now.

She wondered what she might have looked like to the outsider—her cheeks certainly hurt from smiling, and her eyes were warm, and so she supposed she must have looked just as happy as everyone else in the room.

 _Happy_.

That was a funny thing, she was starting to realize now.

They were all happy.

Ahsoka decided that was a good way to end the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really don't know where to begin when it comes to thanking everyone for their wonderful, wonderful support for this story. This was my first longform fic in a long, long time, and I was fairly nervous going into it. I guess in the end, I just really wanted this family to have a happy ending of their own, because I figured that after everything they've been through, they deserve an alternate universe in which they're all happy and safe. And I hope that this story made you feel a bit happier, too-because I know there were definitely some instances when I felt happy writing this story.
> 
> I guess in the end-and I know especially in our current time, I would like to think that happy endings can exist. The good guys win; the bad guys lose. People own their voices and use them to fight against the tides, and they all get to go home to their loved ones. The galaxy goes on.
> 
> I'm afraid I've grown rather attached to this verse, so you all can expect a continuation of sorts--I say of sorts because it's really more of an anthology than anything, if anyone's interested in seeing some more adventures in this specific timeline. By the time you read this, it might already be up! (If not, it'll most likely be up at around 2PM EST, so keep an eye out for that if you want to!)
> 
> But in the meantime--and if this is the last you see of this verse, thank you. Thank you for reading this story, and thank you for rooting for these characters with me. I hope that like the characters here, you find your own happy ending.
> 
> Luv ya bunches,
> 
> katierosefun (caroline)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really excited to begin this project! Chapters will be updated every Monday.
> 
> As always, comments/kudos/subscriptions are always appreciated! (Or if you just wanna cry about TCW, that's okay too.)


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